


The Balloon

by 7cinnamonroses



Category: Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Villain!Tom - Fandom
Genre: Blackmail, Chance Meetings, Childhood Memories, Double Life, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Faked Suicide, Fluff, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Murder, My First Smut, Not RPF, Oral Sex, Protectiveness, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Secrets, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1814095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7cinnamonroses/pseuds/7cinnamonroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Currently being revised) They had not seen one another in 5 years and when they meet again he will go to great lengths to make sure that she will not find out about the secrets that would cause her to leave him forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I swear British Villain!Tom in my Patronus or something... This version of him will not be an RPF. I'm not really sure if he'll get to keep the name Tom Hiddleston. Dunno, writing RPFs and I are not the best of friends *shrugs*
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy this. The reader will be in the 2nd Chapter.

It was a sunny day. The large windows would allow a lovely view on the other side of the river. But did the young man in the dark grey suit care about the view? Rather not!

Not yet, that is!

He had to deal with the shocked faces that were staring at him right now. Most of these men were older than him, the eldest –a well-built man in a black suit– doubled the years he had spent on earth himself. It did not matter. Not to him and neither to them. Not anymore!

Their attitude had changed drastically in the past 15 minutes. Oh yes, he knew all of them and he knew them well. Their virtues and their vices. Needlessly to say, the latter were of far greater importance to him. It was funny how some individuals showed their true colours only around the ones they thought inferior. Whether this presumed inferiority related to age, experience, strength, gender or simply wealth was not notably important to them. They would smile into the face of a partner, being the friendliest, most pleasant human being you could imagine and in the next second they would treat an employee like they were human garbage.

There was one advantage to being thought inferior though. People talked while you were present, thinking you were too stupid or too unimportant to grasp what was going on. In some cases they would assume that you were too scared to loose your job to talk about any illegal or delicate secret of any kind of a company.

The past few months, people had talked a lot around him. He had been hissed and yelled at often. He had been threatened frequently. And all this hissing, yelling and threatening had been wasted on making sure that he would not share any of the very, very incriminating little details about a certain project that had been financed by one government or the other. Some of the details had even him shudder in displeasure. The things some people came up with just to make sure that dictator A or B would remain in power… Only because it was easier to deal with the devil you knew or because said dictator paid well.

In this specific case, they had made contracts with both of the governments that were at each other’s throats. Not that the young man was a stranger to any sort of collateral damage, but greed had made the people before him turn a blind eye on the distastefulness that was to a certain degree sponsored by them. And here they sat like sheep and called him amoral! The audacity!

Empty threats about the terrible things that would befall him as soon as he stepped out of the room were hollered his way. It was so adorable when they tried to be clever!

“So you see, gentlemen…” he said, his deep voice almost flippant when he rose to his feet and buttoned up his jacket. Such a soft fabric! He really ought to get another one made. Maybe one in black next time? He’d talk to his tailor, first thing in the morning. “The tapes and the signed documents as well as the official contracts are all in the possession of my associates as well as myself. In case something were to happen to me: one copy of these documents would find its way into the hands of a trusted member of our dear Parliament, another into the personal correspondence of our beloved majesty, the Queenand yet another into the hands of the competing nation you were also striking a deal with.” Damn, he could not talk to his tailor tomorrow! He had to meet some people in Birmingham. Sunday then! Good thing Cedric did prefer house calls anyway. “I am ready to receive educated guesses on how long any of you would survive in that case.”

Silence.

Shocked. Sweet. Silence.

Thomas allowed himself a velvety chuckle.

He nearly heard the sweat running down their foreheads and the back of their necks. God, he lived for these moments! The moment when they realized that there was no way out. That they were trapped. At the mercy of the very man they had thought nothing more than a little trainee from Marketing. The thrilling pulse of power raced through his veins. He wasn’t one to partake in the usage of drugs –safe for tea and the occasional pleasure of dark chocolate– but he could very well imagine that being high might feel a bit like this.

A chair was pushed back and the CEO –a man by the name of Hollister who was in his late 40’s– rose slowly to his feet. The pampered little imbecile had considerably blanched in the last few minutes. No trace left of that ugly fake-tan. He had inherited a respectful business from his father 10 years ago and sucked every ounce of moral value out of it. This alone would not have been of interest to him or the people he worked with… or rather _for_.

No. Thomas didn’t care about morals. He couldn’t afford dong that yet. However, these people here had lost him and the two parties he represented a considerable amount of money. Additionally, they earned them a lot of trouble in return. It had only been due to well-paid informants that they had been able to hide the true function of the shared businesses. It was one thing to steal a client, bribe an informant or deal too high prices. But sending Interpol your way was bad manners!

And he knew how to deal with bad manners and the right people had heeded his words. It had been his chance to prove himself and he had not disappointed.

“What do you want?” the man who had been very keen on trying to drive him to the brink of a burn-out over the last couple of months, asked to his great satisfaction. Was there something as sweet as victory?

Thomas grinned calmly, placed his hands behind his back and strolled towards the large window. Time to have a look! It would be such a waste not to take advantage of such a look-out. Last week he had inspected a penthouse near Hyde Park with an equally lovely view. He wasn’t sure if he’d buy it yet. It was a bit large for his purposes. The young man would only use it when he wasn’t keen on driving back to his house in Hampstead and it made no sense to him to invest in something he barely needed. Anyway, there were a lot of things he would do without second thought, but driving while he was half-asleep or intoxicated were not on that list. It really had been a rather nice object. He’d decide by tossing a coin later!

His cold blue–green eyes surveyed the river now and then immediately settled on Tower Bridge. When one lived in a city packed with famous buildings, castles and bridges it was easy to lose sight of them after some time. With him being born and raised in London none of it was all that special to him anymore. He passed by century-old buildings of a certain historical importance on a daily basis and did not do more than register that they were still there. When he had arrived earlier, the same thing had held true for Tower Bridge. His mind had been focused on what he was about to do.

Now however,with those shivering, scared, pathetic beings right behind him, he remembered the first time he had bought a present for someone. For a little girl, who had just moved into the house next to his family’shome. Their gardens had been right next to one another and he had climbed up the wooden fence to look at her when she had been sitting on the old swing for the first time. Thomas had meant to introduce himself and to find out whether or not she was someone he might want to play with. He had not been the type of boy who was scared of girls, mind you. Up to that day, they just had proven to be whiny or too skittish to be of any use.

This girl in particular had been neither and one day he had brought her here. It had been important to her to see the bridge and he had not seen the harm in taking her himself while the adults were being terribly inactive to grant her wish. It had been the day he had bought her a balloon. A blue one if he remembered correctly. Most girls had thought that blue was a ‘boy colour’, but she had liked it. She had been important to him, that one…

His hand came up to sleek his black hair back for no reason. It wasn’t out of place. It was just a gesture with which he tried to physically push away those memories. She had moved away and as it happened so often they had tried and failed to stay in touch. Most of it had been his fault, really.

“You will all resign from your current positions. You will sell the company. Transcribe the company’s open contracts and assignments to a couple of companies suggested by me. You will pay 1/7 of the revenue to your employees, 1/7 to two charities I will be suggesting and the rest will be transferred to eight Swiss Bank Accounts. Not yours, in case you were wondering.” he told him, almost sounding bored. Ice would not have melted on his tongue right now, judging from the chilly tone.

The room exploded with frantic voices asking what would happen to them? What they would get out of it?

Thomas was far too busy pushing the memory of that sweet smile he had never dared to kiss back into the depths of his mind. This was why he barely thought about her these days. It was hard to shake off once he allowed any of her lovely traits and cute quirks to be recalled. But it was futile. Currently, he did not want the memory of the clichéd ‘girl that got away’ tainted by the sickening amount of self-pity that was circulating in this room.

“What will become of us?” one of them asked. Seriously, what gave this man the impression that he cared about them? He had just told them that he would have no qualms about causing all of them to be murdered by some assassin or imprisoned for the rest of their sorry existences. And they had nothing better to do than to ask him what would become of them? Were they mental?

“I’m taking your company, not your life. You are quite free to do with that as you please.” Thomas said evenly. The next time he spoke though, his voice was completely changed. A dark, impatient hiss left his lips when he opened them to deliver the final blow. He was sick of them. Sick of having remembered the one thing he had not been able to keep in his life due to the lifestyle he had chosen for himself. His mood was done for and it was all their fault.

“Less complaining, more signing the contracts, gentlemen. It’s Friday afternoon and I suppose we all have better things to do.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 kudos already? Oh my, thank you guys :)
> 
> I decided to change Tom's lastname. The villain character is called Thomas Welsh. Hope that's okay with you. Our dear Tom will be mentioned in this chapter though.

It had been an exhausting day. After your courses you had rushed to the tube after waving good-bye to your new acquaintances. The new semester had started two weeks ago and you were still looking for a suitable accommodation. If only you had been studying in London all along, this whole mess would have been avoided. But no! It had had to be York! Don’t get yourself wrong here! York was lovely. But now you had to figure out where to live in a city that seemed to double it’s prices every other week. It was insane! The amount of money you had to pay for literate rat-holes here, got you a nice, sunlight loft anywhere else. Needlessly to say: You had seen some more rat-holes today.

Right now you were sitting in a small café, eating a very well deserved chocolate cake that was terribly over-prized (but just as good), when someone called your name from your right. It was a deep, silky sound with the slightest note of surprise and doubt in it. No voice you recognized immediately though. You turned towards the source of the sound and faced the rather cold gaze of a man you finally recognized as the friend you had known since your early days in London. Cold was a rather good description for his blue-greenish eyes, though there was a lingering warmth that had spread quite quickly when he recognized that it was indeed you. Truth be told, he seemed just as taken aback as you, though you had known that he lived here. After not having been in touch for 5 years you just had not thought he’d want you to try and make contact. Being an unwanted nuisance was not your style, thank you very much!

“Oh…Thomas?!…Hi!”you said, barely able to decide whether to be excited, surprised or over-joyed. Then again, it had been a while and you did not want to make it too awkward by displaying too much joy. Hang on... why were you so nervous? It surely had something to do with the nature of his stare. Judging from the severe coldness that was fading too slowly for immediate comfort, you were not even too sure that he was all that happy to see you. But you told yourself not to care. If he wanted to he would not have to see you again after today. So you gave him a warm, friendly smile that –according to your mum–was able to melt ice. That was of course nonsense. Once you had seen a picture of that famed smile and thought it looked rather goofy. Thomas however seemed rather delighted and slowly he began to grant his lips a cautious smile.

“I…Ahm…”for a moment he fell silent and blinked rather quickly as if to get something out of his eye and you worried your lower lip, just when his tongue flicked over his own lips. You recognized that unconscious reflex of his. Even as a teenager he had done that whenever he had been nervous or when he had thought hard about something. But he remained silent. Lost for words or not sure how to tell you to turn around and pretend he had never spoken to you probably. If he hadn’t changed too much, he still disliked impoliteness.

 _Great,_ you thought. _This is beyond awkward! Why would he_ _…_

But your thoughts were interrupted by a short laugh from him before he got up, positively beaming down at you by now. He reached out for you to take his hand, which you did, thinking he was going to shake it. A soft tug urged you to your feet and you blushed when, instead of shaking your hand, he pulled you into a gentle, warm hug.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you get in touch to tell me you’re in town? It is so good to see you!”he said, joy suddenly written all over his features as he cautiously took hold of your shoulders. All you could do when he stepped back to look you over was stare at him. You tried covering it with the typical once-over, but failed.

He had changed. His dark curls were sleeked back, his features much sharper and so much more…masculine than back when you had seen him the last time. Everything about him seemed so grown up and alluring, from the intense look which still lingered in his eyes to his clothing. Back in the day, before you had moved away, he had always dressed a bit better than most of the boys, but now, in that dark-grey suit, two buttons of the dark red dress shirt unbuttoned, he looked nothing short of devilishly handsome. With every passing second his smile grew warmer and more relaxed, the first chill his eyes had given you long forgotten. You thought him beautiful, but quickly reminded yourself that this was your old buddy Thomas. Your old buddy Thomas who was waiting for some kind of reaction.

“I’m so surprised to see you, sorry about... Well...!”you apologized, a bit ashamed of your silence and laughed at yourself, which made him shake his head, still smiling like a child on Christmas morning. “Well…it is wonderful to see you again. You see, I just began my studies…”

“Here in town? What do you study?”he asked, sounding quite enthusiastic about the news.

Realizing that he was apparently glad to have you in town made your stomach do a little twist. It was good to see him, maybe you could catch up some time. You started to tell him about your finished Bachelor degree, the year you had lived abroad and how excited you were for your Master courses now, when someone cleared their throat. When you saw the beautiful woman, seemingly one or two years younger than yourself, who was sitting at Thomas’ table you blushed deeply. You were such an idiot! In your excitement you had not even seen her. Before having the opportunity to apologize to her, Thomas –who seemed everything but fazed–took hold of your hand and gazed into your eyes with an intensity that was taking your breath away.

“Do you still have your old number? I’d really like to stay in touch…Please?”

Your eyes flickered over to the girl at his table, who had crossed her arms and was tilting her head, a scandalized look on her face.

"No, I've got a new number."

Instantly his phone came into view, his fingers already dancing over the small keys, not leaving you out of his sight. That delicate smile was still caressing his features and you could not help but blush a bit before clearing your throat and dictating your number to him.

 _Get a grip! That girl is probably his girlfriend...,_ you thought, judging from the mild annoyance in the young woman’s face.

At this point, you weren't even sad about it. Thomas and you had always been fond of one another and once you had even considered him your best friend. Sometimes you had wished... or thought about being more to him. But he was your friend and a few years your senior. What did you have that could possibly interest him? Furthermore you did not want to ruin your friendship. He had had girlfriends before you had to move away because of your dad’s job. Those relationships had taught you one thing: This guy was not for long term relationships...  
At least not when it came to anything else than friendship. Because the one thing that would always make up for any of those teenage-chauvinistic-antics he went through, was the loyalty he had –at any time, no matter the circumstances– expressed towards you. You had been his friend for almost as long as you could remember, never expecting more than that. The fact that he looked like he might have jumped straight out of a fashion magazine did not change that. Especially since you had no idea what was currently going on in his life. Damn, that girl could be his wife for all you knew!

“Are you free tonight?” he asked eagerly and you looked surprised. “We could have dinner! Catch up!” he continued and your eyes widened. That was an offer you had not expected and out of the corner of your eye you caught the other woman glaring at his back. You bit your lip and leaned towards him, which made his brows shot up in interest and he leaned down towards you.

“I think your… uhm… I… think she’s not too happy with that idea.” you told him in a whisper, your words causing him to frown.

“She does not have a say in the matter, darling!” he whispered back, sporting an almost insolent smirk. While you did not know the girl, nor having any reason to think that you would get to know her better, this answer did not sit well with you. When a teenager was revoltingly insensible –Fine! That’s what teenage years were for. Everyone got to behave like an idiot before getting their heads straightened and act like a decent person again. Your displeasure must’ve been written all over your face, because he chuckled and placed a hand on your shoulder. “She’s the PA of one of my associates and is trying to get involved with me since two months now.”

_Oh…_

“So… you’re not… Sorry, I thought you guys were dating.” you told him in all honesty and he chuckled.

“Obviously!” he said, straightening so he was towering over you again. “So: What do you say? Dinner around 7?”

A sigh answered that question and his confident smile fell slightly.

“Sorry, I would love to! But I promised my friend Mel that I would accompany her to a party on campus. You know… meet some new people.” you explained.

“Oh… of course! Well…”

“How about tomorrow?” you said quickly, not wanting him to think that you were not looking forward to see him again. A soft smile replaced his short-lived disappointment.

“Sadly I won’t be in town tomorrow until early Sunday morning… But how about we spend Sunday afternoon together and have dinner afterwards?” he offered and you beamed.

“That would be lovely!”

“It is settled then… If you'd give me your address I can pick you up around… let us say 5?”

You told him that you lived with your aunt and uncle because you had not been able to find anything you could manage to afford yet and he made a face.

“Doesn’t your aunt live in Sutton? I remember that we visited her after a trip to Wimbledon. It’s quite the ride every morning, isn’t it?”

“We cannot all live in Belgravia, Thomas!” you joked and grinned up at him.

“Now, now, who said I lived in Belgravia?” he asked, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“Am I wrong?”

“You’re not even close!” he teased and you raised a brow, him mirroring that movement.

“You’re not a Docklands person are you?”

“Don’t make me laugh!” he exclaimed.

This made you giggle and he took your hand in his.

“It is so good to see you.” he told you and never had you seen so much sincerity in someone’s eyes.

“I’m glad you recognized me, Thomas. I mean it has been quite a while!”

He seemed about to say something, when the young woman was finally fed up.

“Mr. Welsh, if that would be all for today I would leave to let Mr. Marlowe know about your conditions.” She said and sounded rather professional for all it was worth.

“Give my regards to Ben, Miss Linham. Good day!” Thomas muttered, looking over his shoulder, nodding in cold politeness. It was clear as day that he was much more distant towards her. As the two of you had grown older you had witnessed this behavior more than once. He had always remained polite and to an extent even charming, but he was not afraid to distance himself from people he perceived to be beneath him. For a while it had scared you, dreading the day he would think that you were not worth his time. It never came. Instead you had simply drifted apart and as sad as that had been at times –your heart nearly broke that one New Year’s Eve when you had mustered up enough courage to call him up to wish him a happy new year and were told that this number was no longer available– there were no hard feelings on your side. Obviously you both had been busy.

She shot him a poisonous smile, giving you a critical once-over and tripped off on heels that probably cost more than the amount of money you paid for food in a month.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you too… I have to take the train and would rather change before tonight’s party.” you said and he smiled gently.

“And I can’t convince you to skip the party?”

“Not this time… I promised I’d go and sleep over at Mel's afterwards.” you informed him, already falling back into that old familiarity with him. All aloofness and distant bearing aside: He had always had this effect on people. People trusted him and you were no exception to that rule!

“How about I drive you home?” he offered in that smooth, calm voice of his.

“Thomas, that is sweet, really, b…”

The little ‘but’ you were about to utter was interrupted by your sudden loss for words when he placed an arm around your shoulder, grabbed your bag and ushered you along with him. Thankfully he walked not too fast or his long strides would have been troublesome to keep up with. When you looked up at him, about to protest or to argue or to tell him that it really wasn’t necessary, he cocked his head to the side, grinning down at you.

“I’m in the mood to be sweet!” he explained and you laughed, reaching for your bag, which was handed to you.

“Does that still happen as rarely as it used to?” you teased, japing your finger into his side, making his upper body jerk slightly.

“Depends highly on whom you ask.” he told you jokingly and the two of you grinned at each other. After walking like this for some moments, you leaned your head against him.

“8 million people… What are the odds, eh?” you asked lightly, finally allowing yourself to be openly happy. He said nothing, but for a moment you felt his hand squeeze your shoulder.

 ---

What were the odds indeed! Hundreds of cafés and restaurants and she sat in the one place Linham had suggested. To think that he had been about to decline and to tell Ben's PA to come to another place. But then he had figured that he might be able to visit Cedric after handing the contracts to her and arrange a meeting with his partner Benjamin Marlowe – no connection to the playwright.

And then he had looked up from his phone, trying to fit in another meeting to find her, sitting just a few feet away. Linham had chirped on, asked him questions he chose to ignore. About some young actor, who was his spitting image according to her and if he was related to him in some way.

He had been about to mutter a suggestion for a day that would suit him, when he had caught her voice. Or what he had thought was hers. He turned his head and saw her, thanking the waiter when he brought her a piece of cake.

It could not be… He had looked away and had concentrated on Linham again, suggesting the next Tuesday to her. Finally the woman had shut her mouth and had concentrated on her task. While she had been busy, his eyes fought with his will not to look at the other woman again. But why exactly would he not? It was a free country after all.

She did not pay him any attention anyway, but was focusing on the piece of cake in front of her. When she had put the first fork-full into her mouth a cute smile and a light blush lit up her face. Just like…

“Mr Welsh, if you like: Next Tuesday, 4 in the afternoon?” she asked, smiling like she had just found the cure for some disease.

“That would be lovely.” he said politely and her smile grew.

“Everything for you, Mr Welsh.” she cooed, trying a new, more flirty tone, but he already had turned towards the other woman again. Her hair was a bit different from 5 years ago and her style of clothing was of course different. Nothing too fancy, but with a distinguishable amount of taste.

When he had called her name it had been more a reflex, nothing he had done intentionally. Her eyes found his and when that beautiful smile had formed on her lips he knew it was her.

The 19 year old in him made him get to his feet and pull her into a hug. He had not known that she lived here. How long? Was she married? He quickly scanned her hands for a ring, but found none. She looked well. Not only well! Happy! She had that same glow about her that had been present the day he had bought her that balloon…

 _Damn, forget about that stupid balloon!_ , he hissed at his inner sentimental fool that had not shown his face in quite some time now.

Had she always been this beautiful? Of course she had always been pretty, but now? She seemed a bit exhausted but apart from that she was glorious. How happy she had been to see him. And how mutual the feeling was…

There was no way they would already part ways now. He would not have it so. What a sorry image of a man he would prove to be if he did not drive her home. All plans about a new suit and about making arrangements for tomorrow were forgotten. It had irked him quite a bit when she had told him about that party. Every other woman would have found some excuse to have dinnerwith him instead. Not her. She was one of the few people whose words could be taken seriously. A true and honest friend. True and honest… what a rare thing to find.

Still, he had to hold onto her a bit longer. Just when he had thought he would be lost to him. When he had thought about her these last years she had always been a distant source of warmth he liked to wrap around his mind. She had been out of reach. But the memories... Always comforting.

And now she sat next to him in the car, while he still tried to ignore that unsettling tingling in his bones.

_Yes… What are the odds?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos-shaped love and that bookmark guys *-*  
> I'll have to stop working on this little thing here for a while now, since I have an  
> important presentation on Shakespeare's Othello coming up. The fluff is slowly  
> building up, but we are still quite a bit away from it's peak. It'll get more heated  
> as we go though. Have a nice weekend :)
> 
> By the way: I made a tumblr-blog for this story where I'll upload the chapters aswell  
> as some images. Let me know if you're interested.
> 
> I hope the switching of perspective is not too confusing. I do it intentionally, so if you thought  
> that was an accidents: It's not :D But well, since no one complained yet I suppose it's not too  
> weird.

Chapter 3

 

The ride home had been fun. He shot all sorts of questions at you. Why you decided on studying History of Arts, how your parents were faring, about the year you had lived abroad, if you were still in touch with any member of your old group of friends… The list went on.  
Thomas however told you about his career in Marketing and how he currently worked with the CEO of a company that developed security software. He filled you in about some little anecdotes about the people both of you knew, though he had not been in any kind of contact with them for two years now. The heavy traffic prolonged the drive and you had started to apologize for his lost time. Thomas shook his head with a disarming smile, telling you that he would not have offered to get you home if he did not have the time.

After his car came to a stop in front of your aunt and uncle’s house the two of you hugged one another.

“I’ll see you on Sunday.” you said while smiling against his shoulder, his arms still around you. It wasn’t lost on you how nice he smelled.

 _EEEUUUGH!!! Get it together already! He probably still has a very vibrant idea of what I looked like when I still had my braces!,_ you nagged, nearly making yourself laugh.

“I thought about you today… earlier.” he suddenly said, causing you to turn your head towards him. “I had a meeting and the place had a nice view on Tower Bridge and I remembered how it was the first thing you wanted to see after moving to London. When we first met you would not shut up about it and while your mother kept telling you about all the nice castles and the Zoo you insisted upon going there first. But not… not in a bratty, unnerving way. You explained how you wanted to see it raised for ships and maybe climb up the tower to have a look… Do you remember how angry you were at that… ah… the guy who said its design is absurd!”

“Oh God you remember that?” you whimpered in embarrassment, hiding your face in the fabric of his jacket which made him chuckle, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

“You were positively scandalized and no one will ever forget about an angry 6 year old using the word ‘audacity’.” he told you matter-of-factly and you laughed but still refused to look at him, simply because you felt your cheeks burning. “Anyway! Adults being adults they insisted on wanting to show you some other stuff first and I saw you being sad about it, but accepting it nonetheless. You did not make a fuzz or scream and shout.”

There was a fond, warm silence that filled the car and both of you breathed it in, savouring the images that flashed through your minds.

“The next day after school I waited for you and we took the bus.”

“I wanted us to get off the bus two stops earlier because the weather was nice and I wanted to see the bridge from a distance…” you added, a small smile tickling your voice.

“The moment you first saw it you let go of my hand –though I made you promise not to let it go– and you ran towards the balustrade and climbed on it and just stared at the bridge” he continued and chose not to tell you how he had not let you out of his sight. Thomas also kept to himself that he had been worried you might slip and fall. “After some moments you turned towards me and squealed ‘Look, Toto, look, look! Isn’t it beautiful?’… You were so happy and would not stop thanking me.” Another short silence, then he chuckled. “And then you started running towards me again, taking my hand and smiled ruefully at me. You even apologized. Just because you had let go of my hand. And then… then you pulled at me, urging me to walk a bit faster…”

“I must have been so annoying… Sorry about that… and sorry about calling you Toto, Toto!” you said lightly, tightening your grip around his shoulders a bit and he chuckled when he said:

“You will not call me that anymore, will you?”

You giggled.

“Maybe just on special occasions. Birthdays and Christmas and the likes.” you joked and he laughed. His hand came up to stroke over your hair when he had calmed down, still holding you close.

“You were everything but annoying, believe me.”

“I remember that balloon you bought for me.” you exclaimed and leaned back, finally looking at him, smiling brightly. Your faces were close to one another and for a moment it sent pleasant warmth through your body. But you pushed it aside easily. This was all so wonderfully innocent and your last relationship had only been over for a few months now. Romance was nothing you were too eager for! “We were in so much trouble when we got home… I was glad I at least got to keep the balloon, since I was not allowed to come out and play for 2 weeks afterwards…” you mused, smiling to yourself.

“By now I can see why… But it was worth it.”

“I’m glad you’d say that.” you told him.

“It made you happy, didn’t it? Our little adventure?” he asked and for a second you thought that he would kiss you. Your breath hitched when he leaned into you, closing the distance between your faces and leaned his forehead against your temple. Though make no mistake. He had wanted to. And he would have kissed you, too, had it not been for the fact that he was leading a life he would not want you to know about. It would repel you. To make things worse: When offering to get you home he had not considered the risks. An idiotic mistake! If one of those bastards from earlier today had him followed, they might…  
 _Fuck! That shit’s textbook!,_ he fumed, just when his forehead made contact with her skin. _DAMN!_

What had he been thinking? He had not thought at all and that had been the problem. This had not happened in years. Not thinking his steps through. If only he had been able to keep his stupid mouth shut!... There, at this very point all his thoughts came to a sudden halt. What was he thinking? Not talking to her had not been an option. It would have kept him up all night and Birmingham would have turned out a disaster.

And as for not seeing her again? It sounded wrong. Not the kind of wrong you could sugar coat by using some nice words or grand values. That it was for the greater good and all that nonsense. No. She was here. Her hair smelled so pleasant and it was soft. And she was warm and beautiful and… “Of course what we did was reckless, maybe even wrong, but… it was for a good cause, no?”

 _Oh. My. God. Did I just really say that? I sound like a wuss…_  
“I’d say so, Tom.” you agreed, lifted a hand and ruffled his hair cautiously, ruining the styling gel’s effect. “I suppose it startled you when I just sat there in that café shortly afterwards?”

What? Oh, yes! Of course! They had still been talking about the day that had been banned from watching TV for a month and had not been allowed to go out either. When she ruffled his hair, he held back a grin. If Marcus knew about this, he’d never hear the end of it. No. Letting her escape from his life ever again was not an option. He’d just have to make certain preparations to ensure her safety.

“I thought I had lost my marbles.” he admitted, the skin of his forehead brushing against your temple softly, caressing your skin and you closed you eyes. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You always had the most brilliant timing, dear.”

“Oh stop it, you! You’re making me blush!” you said, which made him chuckle again. Then silence. “I’ve got to go…”

“I’ll see you on Sunday…” he said and you smiled at one another before you got out of the car.

 ---

On his way back into the city he called several people. The Real Estate Agent who had shown him the Penthouse was delighted when Thomas told him he’d take it. In the following months he’d need a second place to live. He called back Ben, who had tried to contact him and told him that everything had been dealt with and that they might have to deal with these people again in the near future. Nothing to worry about though. Not if they did business as usual.

 _She is not part of 'usual' though…,_ his mind snapped at him.

“I think it would be better to have some people keep an eye on Hollister. He did seem rather unhappy and you know how some of these people are. I’d hate to have one of his goons standing in my living-room one night, because that idiot thinks he’s got nothing left to loose.” Thomas said in his calm, business-like manner. Ben chuckled.

“Feel free to get him some new shadows.” The older man spoke in the voice of a nice uncle who had just bought his favourite nephew a new toy. “I didn’t just call to chat about justified paranoia, though. Life can’t just be all work and no fun, now can it? Marcus is coming to town on Sunday and we are going to have one of those little business-dinners.”

“I’d love to, but I already made another arrangement.”

“So that’s why Stephanie was out of humour?” Ben asked mischievously. Thomas grinned.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

\----- 

The following weeks he had spent a considerable amount of time with you, rekindling your friendship as often as his work allowed him to. It felt great to have him back, though he was a bit different from the old Thomas. Not in a particularly bad way. He was less impulsive, more controlled now. Which was probably due to having such an important position. One thing you were extremely glad about: He did not like talking about work too much. He was not showing off about big deals or brilliant strategies or whatever it was he did. Of course he did tell you some things and mentioned a few names, but it was not a major topic between the two of you. Once you had dated a guy who was involved with stock market and he had barely ever shut up about his job, never talking about anything else.

Not your cup of tea!

Thomas liked hearing about your life though and often asked about your friends and family, already having been at your aunts and uncles’ to have tea. Your mom –who had always taken quite the shine to him– had sounded just as enthusiastic as you. He always asked you to give her and your dad his regards.  
Sadly he had not been able to meet Mel yet. The boy was just too busy and usually wanted to enjoy some quality time with you, as he would call it. Though you could not wait to introduce them –because you had told Mel all about running into him and had bored her with endless stories about your childhood friend. Her cocky smile had been insufferable. But you probably deserved it after not shutting up about him.

But what could you do? You were happy! Your new start in a new…-ish city could not have been more swift.

During that time it took about an hour for you to travel to university every morning. One month after you had met Thomas again, he caught you looking for a place in town. It was a Sunday and you had established a weekly breakfast or lunch.

“This long way to university and back… It’s tiresome! You know I am no good when I have to get up before sunrise.” you told him, folding the paper. Seriously? You dreaded the long winter if you would not be able to find something a bit closer to the campus. It was November now and leaving home when it was still dark really was not something you enjoyed.

A soft chuckle earned him a punch on the shoulder. A fake ‘Oww’ was heard when he sat down next to you, rubbing your back in sympathy.

“What if I knew a place you could stay at?” he said suddenly.

Surprised and a bit suspicious you frowned up at him.

“I didn’t think you knew anyone who’d offer anything in my price-range.” you said and shrugged. “I don’t have that… uh… lavish sort of a budget, you know that.”

It turned out that he really didn’t know anyone who offered something that would fit your budget. Instead it was this very day that he had asked you to move into his new apartment instead of living on campus or sharing a small apartment. You could barely believe your own ears. When you asked how much he’d want you to pay, he simply waved his hand in a dismissive way and told you that he would never accept any money from you.

“I can’t do that! It’s probably very fancy and I’d constantly feel like trash!” you told him and he turned you towards him, clutching your shoulders gently.

“Nonsense! I only bought it because it’s in the city centre. Sometimes it’s troublesome to drive all the way to Hampstead and I would only use the place twice a month. I have an apartment, you need an apartment.” he told you in a serious voice.

To him, the past weeks had been incredible. Slowly, he had sneaked her into his life and just as slowly he had invaded hers. Gently and delicately, he had gotten to know her ways all over again. He had found some lovely new quirks, old signs for emotions that were displayed unchecked and intoxicating little gestures. It was all there. None of it artificial or faked. The very antithesis to his life.

Thomas was used to getting to know about people’s habits, which made him uncomfortable. His… bond with her wasn’t professional, but he just could not fully shed this part of him the moment she walked into a room. Not yet. It was becoming easier though! With her he didn’t have to fake anything, safe for his field of activity. It was ironic if you thought about it. While working, he had to fake everything but his professional side. As soon as he was with her though he simply had to forget about business and enjoy –and fear– that alarming wave of warmth that ran through him whenever she smiled, joked around with him or was simply present. It was scary and delicious at the same time and while he tried to ignore it on most days, there were those days when he had had a frustrating day. He would hold onto that feeling. His fingers clawed into that warmth and he wanted nothing more than to consume it.

There were other, more practical reasons for his offer, too. Two of his informants had reported that they had registered certain investigations regarding his person. By the Ex-CEO whom he had ruined – Hollister. He and the other fools had sold the company, all right. Thomas and his associates had made sure that it was bought by a company that belonged to them, though it was officially run by a very well-paid and experienced CEO of the name of Walter Foucault. Foucault was an ambitious man. A clever man. He had lacked financial means in the early years of his life. When he met Ben, it had become pretty obvious that he was their man. Clever, but he also knew to whom he ought to be loyal. They had built him up, they could tear him down, too.

Up to that point everything had gone according to plan. The money was paid, most of Hollister’s former board-colleges were offered desirable positions in 4 different companies – to keep an eye on them. Some people just didn’t know when they ought to stop and pampered, arrogant Hollister was one of them. While he could not talk to the police –since that would have caused certain documents to be handed over to several people who would have the man’s head after reading them– he seemed to try and get information on Thomas. With no results yet, but that might change. He had not gotten so far by letting people sneak around. A special motivation was that he worried about her safety, too. If he knew about someone’s weakness he would not shy away from profit from such knowledge. He’d have to take care of this and soon. Thomas would be thorough.

But to be honest… the thought of having her move in with him –though it was only his second home– was thrilling. He had stopped kidding himself. She was not just a friend to him anymore. What it was exactly that she was to him… he wasn’t sure. This would be a great opportunity to find out. Now he only had to get her to agree to the concept.

“That may be true and I can’t start to tell you how flattered I am by your offer! But… let me at least pay for the room.”

“No. Money.” His words were forceful. At this point you had already figured out that he was not used to any sort of objection. But at the same time he enjoyed your little discussions and Thomas never acted anything but polite, even when he was unnerved. His jaw would clench, the muscles moving visibly. He breathed your name insistently. “Please! I can help. To me this is just another balloon. Let me help!”

These words made you embrace him gently. Still! This was not just ‘another balloon’, no matter what he said. This was probably some chic loft or a nice flat in some building where only rich people resided. The idea did not repulse you. You just wanted to pay for his troubles. Again and again you offered any sort of payment to him. It would be ridiculous to give it to you for free, no matter how long the two of you had been friends. He was as stubborn as you, telling you that if you’d give him money, he’d find a way to hand it right back to you. It wasn’t like you could not stand your ground. But this time he was very insisting that all the problems you had mentioned were only in your head.

Finally you nodded, making him smile as if he was the one being offered gratis-accommodation in one of the most expensive cities on the planet.

“But in case you really need the apartment… When you’re staying…” you were about to tell him that you were quite able to stay with a friend for a few weeks, when the look in his eyes silenced you.

“When I need a place to stay in town, I’ll just sleep in the master bedroom. That’s what people have more than one bedroom for, you know?”

“So… I’d be more of a house-sitter?” you asked in a neutral manner. The idea did not seem unreasonable!

“No. You’re my friend who’ll grant me free entrance to any gallery or museum she’ll ever work for… or you could give me hints once you work for Sotheby’s.” he said, an unsettlingly attractive smirk decorating his fine features.

“I knew ‘Quit pro quo, Clarice’ was right around the corner.” was your instant reaction and he placed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm hug, laughing softly. “No seriously, Thomas! What do you want?” There had to be something! Not that you distrusted his motives. It was just that you wanted to do something for him. Maybe he needed you to analyse a piece of art or accompany him to an auction.

The way he looked at you that very moment should have made you understand. It should have been the moment you finally came to see why he had barely left you out of his sight, why it was so important to him to have you close (your personal security playing but a small role in his motivations. He could have had you safe pretty much everywhere.). That to him you were so much more than a friend.

Because in the short instance of this moment he imagined showing you what it was that he wanted. In explicit detail and without holding back. To just pull you even closer and finally enlace himself with everything you were to him. He’d devour you if he would let himself go. But he didn’t. And you were still oblivious to any of this.

“Just allow me to be a good friend.” he said huskily, but smiled his sweet, bright smile.

Those words were your undoing and you nodded once more, agreeing to his terms. They were pretty reasonable: No roaring parties (The occasional girls night did not count as ‘roaring’, proving that he had no idea what he was talking about!), keeping up the security system he had established (No matter how silly you thought it!) and he’d come around whenever he needed to stay in the city.

Additionally you had insisted that you would do the cleaning from now on, saving him some money and hopefully making up for the trouble you gave him.

If only you had had the slightest idea that he had never been more happy than the day you moved into one of the smaller bedrooms, squealing at the fact that your room had not only access to the beautiful balcony, but that you were also able to see the Eye in the distance. If only you had known that he had wished for nothing more than the intimacy of having you close.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 notes? Really? *-* Thank you, guys!!!!  
> Okay, so my presentation went well and I felt like writing to loosen some of  
> the tension. This will have the first bit of smutty elements in it. It's basically  
> nothing too shocking I suppose, but this is where 'family friendly' will end.
> 
> It's the first time I wrote anything smutty. Heavy kissing and a bit of touching?  
> Been there, wrote that. Smut however is new territory for me when it comes to writing.
> 
> Hope it's okay ._.
> 
> P.S.: Writing Christmas chapters in the middle of summer is weird... Though I HAVE been  
> to a Christmas themed party in August once...

 

When insisting on giving you the room for free, he had not taken Christmas and his Birthday and Easter and the likes into account. You made sure to save up money for some awesome presents to make it up to him. It helped that you could work on the weekends. Your old Professor had recommended you to the owner of a small Art Gallery. The payment wasn’t exceptionally high –to put it nicely–, but you liked the atmosphere and it was nice to gain some practical experience. Time went by and you had settled in quite well. Most of the evenings you spent with Mel and some other people you had just met. About two or three times a week though, Thomas would visit. He did not spend the night too often. By the time Christmas was right around the corner you had lived there a bit over a month and he had slept over twice. You figured that the times he visited randomly was about to see you and not check whether or not you had burnt the place down or sold the expensive art that hung around the place. If you thought about it, having such a nice apartment and never use it was quite the waste.

A few days before Christmas Thomas had showed up after calling you, announcing that he was too tired and unnerved to drive home in this traffic and you were glad of it. Right before Christmas you did not enjoy being alone. Realizing you would not be home alone tonight you wanted to finish work quickly. Hopefully he would like your handiwork.  
When he walked in, he looked a bit flabbergasted upon seeing the fully decorated living room, with you standing by a beautiful Christmas Tree, decorating it while grinning like a child, humming some Christmas carol. His hair was a bit out of place, his tie slightly loosened. Oh, dear!

“Long day?” you asked and grinned in sympathy. No witty answer or litany of curses about one associate or the other answered you. He just stood there and looked around in silence, still in his long black coat, his scarf already in his hand, ready to be tossed on the nearby couch.

“You… decorated…” was all he said.

“Yes…” you said a bit insecure by now. “Is… Is that okay?”

He did not answer at first, but took his time to walk towards you, coming to a halt an arms’ length away from you.

“Thomas? Is this okay?” you asked again.

“Yes… of course it is. It is your home and it looks more festive like this…” he said and a small smile bloomed on his lips.

“Good!” you said brightly. “You see, I was hoping you might have the time to come round during Christmas? I’ll be gone on the 25th to visit aunt Megan and Andrew. Mum and dad are staying there you see. But maybe you could make it in the evening? I could cook and…” you were rambling, feeling a bit nervous and when you looked up at him there was tenderness, mixed with regret and… sadness. It was useless to keep talking. His face already told you what his answer would be.

“I won’t be in Britain during Christmas. I’m needed in France and won’t return until the 29th.” he told you. “That’s one of the reasons I came over for. To wish you Happy Christmas before I leave.”

It made you sad. Not for yourself! You’d visit your aunt and your parents and the girls might come over for a drink and to exchange presents. That would all be great, though of course you would have loved seeing him. No, you felt bad for him. His surprise about the decorations, the idea of having to work on Christmas… You loved Christmas time. To think of leading a life that was so busy that it kept you from the indulgence of the jolly and hopeful spirit made your heart sink.

“Sorry… I thought you might be busy, I was just…” you told him, biting your lower lip and playing with your fingers.

“No, no, it was a wonderful idea.” Thomas assured you, taking your hands into his gently, so your nails would stop worrying your skin. “Maybe next year!” he offered and you nodded bravely. There was no need to make him feel bad!

“In that case; Let me give you your present now!” you said, freeing one of your hands to reach for his and squeezing them tenderly.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” he chided half-heartedly when you walked towards the tree, knelt down and got his present.

“I disagree!” you said happily and walked back towards him, a little box resting in your hands, holding it out for him to take. “I hope you’ll like it… Oh… get out the coat, you must be…!”

He grabbed the little box.

“Woman, don’t come between a man and his wrapped presents!” he joked and you laughed, watching in cheerful anticipation.

The watch was beautiful. A wristband of black, soft leather and a silver, round display. The man in the store had tried to show you other watches, obviously thinking you could not afford it. But you had seen it and knew he'd love it. It was a Hamilton Intra-Matic and you had been insistent. The nice salesman had smiled at you while wrapping it up.

"Your boyfriend must have been good this year." he had joked, while you had blushed. Never before had you gotten something this costly for anyone. It was not something you would ever want for yourself, since it would have made you very uncomfortable to wear any kind of item that costs such a lot of money. You liked fine clothes. Heck, you even had saved up to get yourself a pair of timeless and simply gorgeous black peep toe pumps by Prada and paid attention to a certain quality when it came to clothing. Nothing too fancy or ridiculously expensive, but you'd not even be found dead in stuff from companies that did not even bother to hide the fact that children's hands had sewed that skirt for 5 bucks.

But a watch for 700£? Thanks, but no thanks. You'd either never wear it or keep it covered with your other hand. With Thomas however things were different. You had seen him wear a Rolex and even a very pretty watch you had not been able to place on more than one occasion. This had given you the idea in the first place and when you had commented on watches becoming a rather rare sight for you - with cellphones and the likes being around to tell you what time it was- he had said that he liked to keep some things old school.

Even if you had wanted to, you could not have afforded another Rolex, though there had been one that had caught your eye. But he already had one, so you had settled for the simple, yet elegant Hamilton.

Thomas was silent, his eyes slightly widened and his lips had parted the slightest bit when he reached into the small box and held the fine black and silver object in his palm. His thumb ran over the leather before he looked at you again.

Still silent.

"I... do you like it?" you asked, becoming rather insecure. He did not smile. Just looked at you with those pretty eyes of his. "There… There is something engraved on the back..."

By now your voice was shy. You had liked it instantly, it's design and the leather seemed to have been made for his wrist. What if you had judged his taste incorrectly? It could not be returned now that it was engraved.

Thomas sat the box down on the table and turned the watch over. A short smile flickered up on his face when he read the words. 'Ceci n'est pas un ballon.', alluding to the one time he had compared the Penthouse to a balloon and a surreal painting by René Magritte that he was rather fond of.

His eyes lingered on the engraving before turning the watch over once more. What had she been thinking?

You were about to burst. You weren't even too sure which of the many raging feelings inside of you would do the trick.

 

Finally his gaze travelled from the watch to her gorgeous eyes, taking another step towards her. His heart had tried to tear his rips apart while his mind begged him to pull her in and kiss her. To finally, after those 2 months... those dreaded, months of yearning, cover her lips with his. Hold her body. He could already smell her now that he was this close. But not close enough. He'd only find peace once he held her in his arms. He might have fooled anyone who watched the scene. An onlooker might have thought him calm and collected, but the truth was, that he could barely keep himself from pressing his lips against hers. This urge had only grown stronger since they started to see one another so frequently. His lips twitched and his body was tense. A muscle in his jaw clenched, while he had still not thanked her. Thomas was worried. Worried that his voice might give it all away. Worried she might reject him. Tell him that he was no more than a friend to her. Never before had he been so insecure about taking the next step. She was not ready to know yet and neither was he ready to admit to himself…

Today had been horrible. For more reasons than one. Hollister had kept sneaking or rather: he had paid people to do the sneaking for him. Additionally to his daily work he had to make sure that people would keep selling him false stories. He’d be leaving the country in two days and he had to be sure she was safe. If he found out were he really lived and what his real name was… Even that idiot would be able to find her. So he had come up with a story to tell her. At first he had hoped that she’d spend Christmas with her family, far away from London. But her father had gotten her mother a trip to Venice, which had her change her plans. Maybe he should have arranged something similar. At first he had thought about talking to Ben, but even though they got along on a daily basis and held each other in in great respect, he was not ready to share such an important piece of information. The older man suspected something. Yet, Thomas wanted her as far away from his… professional life as humanly possible.

And now she had given him such a beautiful gift. When she had commented on his watches he had not thought anything of it. She had a vivid curiosity, why wouldn’t she ask questions or comment on something?! But this… A lovely piece of work. Nice, clean lines, no additional, pompous knick-knack. High quality and excellent taste.

The tall man loved his present. And he loved the woman. More than ever.

Her name became a hushed declaration of that love and when she looked up at him with that insecurity it was torture to keep himself from kissing her senseless.

Instead he embraced her, pulling her as close as he dared to, his arms around her shoulders. He buried his face in her soft hair.

This was peace.

For a fragment of a single second he felt at absolute peace, when he realized that he could not push it further. Not tonight. Not before things were resolved. His heart raged inside his chest, begged him to finally tell her, to show her… To make her feel what he wanted her to feel…

He had not had another woman since he met her. It would not have satisfied his hunger. Loving her tore him apart, but it brought him closer to experience complete happiness than anything had done in years.

“Thank you…” he breathed, shifted a bit and before he knew what he was doing his lips placed a soft kiss on her cheek. Leaning back, Thomas smiled gently. The hand that was not holding the watch cupped her face tenderly, his thumb caressing the soft skin. “It’s beautiful…”

He was not referring to the watch.

 

You smiled up at him, so relieved that he liked his present. For a moment you had really thought you had misjudged his tastes.

That kiss…

He should not do that. His tenderness and gentle –though sometimes very teasing– behaviour had startled you at first. Even as a boy and a young man he had been this way. Always treating you well. Teasing; yes. Discussions; of course! Arguments; hell yeah!

In the end you had always been able to work it out and he would be even sweeter after such arguments. Currently it was getting hard for you though. More than once did you have to remind yourself that he was your friend. From what he had told you he did not have a girlfriend in quite a while, which probably meant that he was still keen on short-termed involvement. Because you saw how they looked at him.

When you had been younger you had sometimes felt jealous and upset and to be honest, you never really missed any of the girls he had been dating for some weeks when you were still a teenager, while he was –by all means– an adult. A short time before your dad had told you that your family had to move, you had finally understood that he just did not see you that way. It had hurt, sure. But not for long. You were friends and that was wonderful. While it had been easy to stick to that some years ago, it was becoming more of an issue these days.

Sometimes you thought about what he might be doing or hoped he’d come by after work. Especially when you had had a bad day. It was dumb and it made you feel like a 15 year old girl all over again. You were a grown woman!

You could handle bad days!

You had not needed him before you had moved to the city and you sure as hell did not need him now.

And oh, did you loathe yourself when your heart skipped a beat when he did show up on bad days.

It was stupid.

It was crazy.

It wasn’t… No… you still weren’t what he wanted. He treated you well. Like you were a sister or a cousin he was very fond of. A man like him would have made a move by now if he were interested. Nothing had changed… All was well.

So why had you cried yourself to sleep last night?

You did not know, really. Because you were happy! Maybe a bit too happy even! That must be it! Life had become incredibly easy and quite amazing to be honest and you just did not trust that his state of affairs would last long. It was –a real– universal truth that once you thought things were perfect, something would go wrong. While you did not dwell on it on a daily basis, it stuck around somewhere in the back of your mind, pinching you.

 _Probably just PMS_ _…_ _Dumb hormones!_ , you had thought sardonically.  
  
“Would you?” he breathed, letting go of your shoulders, holding out the watch for you to take.

“With pleasure…” you said happily and pulled back his sleeve back. “Merry Christmas, Thomas!”

The two of you stood there for a moment in silence while you bound the watch around his wrist.

“Is it okay like that? Or too tight?” you asked, looking up at him. Those magnificent eyes bore into yours, before their expression grew so light, so warm and so tender that it made you feel a bit light-headed and you blushed. He reached his second hand up and tugged at the watch gently, not breaking eye contact.

“It’s wonderful… I’m afraid I don’t have your present with me…” he said.

 

 _Let me give you something else tonight_ _…_ _Allow me to kiss your lips_ _…_ _Please. I want to kiss every single part of your body._ His thoughts came unbidden. With her up so close, her fingers pulling his sleeve back into place, that soft skin innocently making contact with his. Catching her hand in his when she tried to pull it back, he lost himself in that phantasy, where he would catch her lips next. One arm wrapping around her waist, the other gently opening her jeans. He’d kiss her. He imagined that she would nibble on his lip gently… wanting him to deepen their contact… Until he’d shove his hand down the front of her pants and panties his middle finger finding her clit. Teasing it with intense strokes. She’d gasp and he’d kiss her deeply, their tongues caressing each other, while she would moan into his mouth. Thomas would drink each of them. Savour them. Hunger for the next.

Then he’d start to draw gentle circles around that delicate bundle of nerves, making her sigh and moan and writhe in his arms. Their lips would come apart the moment he’d start rubbing again, his ring and forefinger resting on the soft lips of her pussy.

 _Let me kiss your whole body_ _…_ _let me lick every. Single. Part_ _…_ _of your beautiful body_ _…_ he’d whisper into her ear, his tongue licking the shell of her ear to illustrate and she’d whimper his name. By then her hips would have started to move, causing the friction his finger produced to intensify. Her hands would be placed on his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his coat that shielded her from seeing his erection. _You have no idea how often I wanted to suck and kiss those lips_ _…_ His two unmoving fingers pressed themselves into the lips he was referring to, making her keen. _How often I imagined sucking you dry… drinking all you’d give me…_

 _Please…,_ she’d gasp, his finger intensifying the pressure. _Tho… AH…_

If she said his name at that moment he might have to simply take her there and then. It would undo his mind. It would fuck his brain into oblivion if she’d say his name in a moment such as this. Not like this… This was supposed to be _her_ present.  
 _Will you let me do it?_ he would whisper sweetly, sounding innocent.

_Yes…_

_Will you let me kiss and lick your sweet, little pussy? Will you let me lap on your soaking pussy?_ he’d continue, revelling in her moans and whispers and the little twitches of her body. His voice would still be light and sweet.

_Yes… Oh, please…_

_Will you… let me suck on your soft, begging clit?_ he’d growl into her ear, shoving two of his fingers into her hot, soaking cunt in one quick, hard stroke.

 

“…sucks!” you said and shrugged, but grinned. It wasn’t his fault. His eyes grew wide, expression blank.

“Excuse… me?” he asked. Obviously his mind had been far away. You giggled and petted his hand before slipping your hand from his gentle hold.

“YOU really aren’t the one who should have gotten me anything. I was trying to make all this….” you paused your clarification and motioned to your surroundings. “…up to you. At least to a certain extend. That sucks!”

He blinked, snapping out of whatever thought had just captured him. This wouldn’t do. Thomas ought to relax a bit if he could not even do so over the holidays!

“How about I cook us dinner?” you offered and he smiled. Right now, he did look tired… and a little flushed. “And get out of that coat! It’s too warm in here…”

For a moment he froze in his movement and his gaze was unreadable. It seemed to you that he might be considering something. And then it was gone and he just nodded.

“I’ll take a shower, if that’s okay? Or are you very hungry?” he asked politely, reminding you once again that he was probably the most considerate person you ever met.

“Not yet.” you assured him and smiled. Nodding, he smiled and turned away from you, stalking into the hall towards the large master-bedroom.

 

 _Get. A Fucking. Grip!_ he inwardly yelled at himself and he swore that some part of him hissed back: _I’d love to!_

A bitter laugh left his lips when he covered his eyes with his hand in frustration. Goodness, he had to come up with something and soon. What held him back? What was it that kept him from opening that door, walk up to her and tell her how he had loved her before he had even been aware of the concept of that sentiment. That she was not just the means to an end to fulfil his basest needs.

She was that need!

Only when she was up close to him was he able to stop thinking about every single step. With her everything was cheerful and warm and… good.

No hidden agenda.

No wish for personal gain.

All she wanted was to be with him.

Oh, he had seen the signs. And he had seen them been pushed back into the depths of her loving heart. She was scared.

“Rightly so…” he muttered, his voice strangely hoarse while he slipped out of his coat, his need for release long forgotten now.

Damn, if she knew half the things he knew himself she’d not dare to leave her room anymore. What he was most afraid of was detection. That dreadful moment she would find out about the blackmail, the murders, the threatened companies… These past few years he had built a small empire and all the while being quite good at keeping his face hidden. Not even dumb Hollister suspected him to be part of the problem. The fool actually thought he worked for someone else.

But in all the things he took pride in, there was a terrible flaw. No money could remove it and no clever scheme could undo it.

He had built a life she would never willingly share.

He had built a life for himself. With no one at his side.

Did he believe that Hollister had the guts to pay someone to harm him?

People knew him. He had gained a certain degree of fame in certain circles.

She however… they would tear her apart.

The one person that still mattered to him, after all the others had faded into darkness.

Would it be better for her own safety if he stopped seeing her?

Yes! – He lied to the whole world, at least to himself he ought to be honest.

Was he going to stop seeing her because of this?

His fists clenched, knuckles turning white.

 

When he had come out of his room about half-an-hour later you had beamed at him. For once you thought you preferred his casual look to any suit of the world. He wore a grey wool-sweater and very nice jeans. Which was a first since you met him again. Dinner had not been ready yet, so you had started to ask if he’d like to talk about what had killed his mood at work.

His smile had been breath taking and he had thanked you for asking... adding ‘and caring’ in a gentle tone and you hugged him before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Will you promise me something?” he had asked and you had told him that it depended on what he wanted. “I’m not… easy to be around with…”

“Do tell…” you had joked and he had poked you, making you giggle. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright… But… even when I’m being… complicated to stay around with… Would you?” he asked and you smiled at him.

“I promise.”

 

After dinner he had made her sit down and watch a movie with him and afterwards they had watched an episode of one series or the other. He did not remember and he didn’t care. By the time another episode began she had covered herself with a soft blanket, moving towards him to offer him his share. When her shoulder brushed against his he realized how close she was. And how sleepy.

“Shouldn’t you be heading off to bed, young lady?” he asked, extending his arm and placing it around her shoulder.

“Are you sounding like my parents and are trying the oldest move in movie-history?” she asked, her voice just a soft mumble.

“I appreciate my effort paying off.” he said, amused by her quick answers, even while half-asleep. Though her tongue was less sharp now. “We can stop watching, you know?” he said in a low voice, trying not to stir her from her tranquillity.

“I know I sound like a five-year old, but: Just until the end of this one.”

Her small voice was answered by a soft rumble in his chest. The tips of his fingers started to caress her shoulder.

“Thank you, Toto…” she mumbled again and had fallen asleep by the time he answered.

“No… thank you!” he said, his fingers playing with the strands of her hair.

Peace.

 

She wasn’t going anywhere!

He’d take personal care of any kind of danger that would dare to threaten her.  


He’d burn them all to ashes if he had to.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those kudos, people! They really made my day :)  
> Chapter 5 will have no sexual themes, but the guys will talk about criminal activity and villain-y stuff as well as some of THEIR world-views (please do not mistake them for mine).

Chapter 5

 

“...so, anything else?” Ben asks and looks at Marcus, who is playing with his pen. "I guess you have the best three reasons to cut this short." he proceeded, alluding to the bald man's family that he had brought with him on his business-trip.

“We received another enquiry from the newest Oh-so-secret-head of Oh-no-we’re-not-Al-Quaida.” the bald man says and all three men roll their eyes.

“Do those people think we’re morons?”

“They think we’re _capitalist_ morons, that’s how it is…” Thomas states, slightly amused and Marcus snorts. Some people would definitely think twice before ditching them, simply because of the large pay-check. None of the three men really cared where the money came from. After some time you simply stopped wondering how many people were treated like trash, got exploited or frankly sold off to achieve the millions their leaders needed to afford certain services. But when it came to extreme worldviews, they drew a distinct line.  
  
Ruining businesses? No problem! Most of those people had plenty of skeletons in their basements (which –in one case–had not only been an expression. There had been two actual skeletons!) and they took care of not creating too much havoc and simply replaced the boards by people working for them.

Selling information to other governmental agents (Both national and International)? Why the heck not? Politicians being the worst type of human beings in general were their best customers, though he actually had felt the dire need to take a shower more than once. Politicians paid pretty well to both gain dirty little secrets as well as to make sure that theirs would be guarded. Until someone paid even better for some little secret or the other of course.  
  
Sometimes they would drop hints. For free. “For karma’s sake!”, as Marcus would say before Ben would grin sardonically. Three days after one of their associates had handed in the information on the more than revolting case of some local leader or politician on the other side of the globe also having…certain sexual preferences, the man had nearly been lynched. All because a little girl –her hand held by a social worker– had shown up at a police station, a photograph in her tiny hand. While the mayor had been visiting. Journalists, local groups, all there to see that little girl, holding the print-out of a selfie showing a middle-aged man and herself. Thomas had felt the need to throw up when first seeing the picture, Marcus –father of two precious little girls himself–had just looked at Ben. The old man had leaned back, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Marcus, would you like to do the honours?” had been the only thing suggesting what was to be done.

They were criminals.

They were capitalists.  
  
Without a second thought they would steal, blackmail, manipulate, forge and threaten.

They were certainly not the kind of people you wanted to mess with.

But they did not support paedophile filth.

Children and human trafficking were the things they would stay clear off. There was dirt on their hands. The kind of dirt one could live with. So, that stock-broker who had been free of any sort of conscious had hanged himself after they had sold the information of his doings to some newspapers! What was it to them? The guy had been about to cost the country billions and causing several trading companies –one of them belonging to Marcus– enormous trouble. He had played and he had lost. If he was too weak to suffer the consequences, he should have played by the rules.

No! This was nothing that would keep neither Thomas, nor Marcus or Ben up at night.

But there was the kind of dirt no shower could wash off. Some stains stayed with you. They made an effort of staying clear of such stains.

They were businessmen, not psychopaths!

Ben does not look amused while he scans the enquiry of officially-we’re-not-Al-Quaida-so-please-sell-us-information. To be honest?! The Queen and him would have made a lovely couple when it came to being not amused.

“I do not appreciate this nonsense. We never dealt with religious fanatics and we certainly won’t start today.” he said bluntly and the other two men nodded. Thomas agreed whole-heartedly. It did not matter whether people read the Bible or the Quran or whatever. Dealing with religious fanatics was always trouble, simply because they only believed what some book told them. And why would they help destroying the free ‘democratic’ world?!

Make no mistake though: If Opus Dei, Scientology or any of those Evangelical groups had contacted them, their answer would have been the same. Thomas grinned slightly.  
  
 _Equal rights…_

Some things were not about profit. At a certain point it was inevitable to decide that you would rather not get involved with the individuals who brought shame over millions of people of the same faith.  
  
“Shall I tell Mary to send an answer?”Marcus asked, reaching for his Blackberry.

“I don’t see why I would waste your time on that, while Ivy and the kids are waiting for you to return to the hotel.” Ben said. “These people think we’re morons? Well, I don’t see why we should grant such impertinence any sort of answer.”

Thomas grinned at Marcus.

“I suppose that was a hint to call it a day.” he stated and the other smirked suavely.

“The girls asked me to thank you for the dresses, Ben. Rachel refused to dress into anything else but her Snow White dress this morning.”  
  
They were at the point of calm, relaxed and rather personal conversation. Thomas always liked to remain a bit more reserved, not really comfortable with sharing too much. Not that he distrusted them. All of them knew too much about one another to try anything funny. Marcus and Ben knew each other since 20 years now, while Thomas had first met them 7 years ago.  
  
“I hope our boy here doesn’t mind me not getting his girl anything.” Ben said and winked at Thomas, who raised a brow.

“His girl?” Marcus asked, his voice quite curious. “Don’t tell me that Linham girl…”

“Oh, please! Have some decency!” the youngest exclaimed, half-serious.

Ben chuckled.

“She wished…” he commented, getting up and walking towards the bar. “Apparently our bad-boy has moved in with someone.”

Marcus’ eyes grew wide, his brows rose sky-high and his mouth formed a soft o.

“Uuuh…tell me more!”

It was Thomas’ time not to be amused. That blasted little…

Instantly, his gaze became colder, which made Marcus smirk.

“Now, now, Welsh! Don’t give me that gloomy look. No one is trying to intimidate anyone here. It’s Christmas!” the bald-headed man said, leaning back in his chair, reaching for the glass Ben handed over to him. “Thank you.”

It was Benjamin's turn to give Thomas a once over. The old man slowly shook his head.  
  
“You thought this had been unknown to me?” he asked, offering the youngest of the group a glass with amber liquid.

“I certainly did not think you would have the time to investigate about my personal matters.” Thomas stated, taking the offered drink. “Naivety of youth.” he mumbled into his drink.

Ben chuckled.

“You’re right! I do not have the time. It would be quite a bit of work to keep a record over your conquests, so your assumption was quite correct. Indeed, this is not a case of naivety of youth, but lack of decency of Stephanie’s side.”he explained and the cold gaze in the young man’s face turned into a frown.

“I beg your pardon?”

Marcus seemed mildly amused right now. This was the best Christmas present anyone could have made him. It was no secret that he sometimes thought the young man a bit too harsh and too inexperienced…Pompous, he had called him once. Of course Thomas made a point of displaying the pompous ways he was accused of as often as possible.

“When I had her pick you up for our meeting two weeks ago she…”

“Oh, for the love of God…” Thomas exclaimed and rolled his eyes.

“She saw her?” Marcus asked gleefully.

“Indeed!” Ben said, sitting down again, taking a sip from his drink.

“And she complained about it?” the bald man asked, almost laughing now. Thomas looked up at Ben, not really believing the woman would run to her boss to cry her heart out.

“She asked –rather cross– if she ought to book two tickets for you when I asked her to make the needed preparations for our little trip to Paris…” the eldest said, grinning still, him and Marcus obviously having the time of their lives.

“Junior finally found someone worth his time?” the latter asked.

“Did you just call me Ju…”

“Gentlemen! Please!” Ben interrupted. “It’s Christmas! Let’s not fight…So, who is the young lady who probably is the first female I may refer to as your actual girlfriend?”he enquired like a benevolent grandfather, while Marcus chuckled and looked quite curious.

His mind wasn’t with them anymore.

It was with her and that morning 9 days ago. Before all those meetings, the deals and the reports.

\------

After she had fallen asleep, her head resting against his shoulder, he had turned the TV off. While one hand was still caressing your shoulder, he lifted his free hand to graze her face gently. His fingers placed some strands of hair behind her ear. Such soft hair…He had leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of his heart beating against his rips, pumping an intoxicating tickle through his veins.

The next morning he had had to explain this. She had looked at him with those marvellous eyes and asked –still a bit sleep-drunk–why he had not woken her up? Had it not been absolutely uncomfortable for him?

Because he had not carried her to her room, like he had intended to. His plan had been simple. Get her to fall asleep, enjoy the comforting weight resting against his body, caress her face for some minutes and then cradle her into his arms and place her onto her bed. Then he would have covered her with the blankets, maybe grant himself to look at her for some moments. After a minute or so he would have realized that he was approaching creep-territory, resulting in a chaste kiss on her forehead before retreating into his own bedroom. Easy enough…

But his brain had refused to cooperate from the moment on her body had relaxed completely. Still unwilling to accept, that he was simply unable to part from the warmth that pressed itself snuggly against him. His muscles relaxed with every passing second, his fingertips dancing over her face tenderly.

Somehow he had ended up thinking that it might be a good idea to shift and lay down. Just for a minute, he had told himself. His intention had been to just revel in the feeling of her body resting on top of his own for a brief moment. So he moved his –very impractically long–legs so they were on each side of her. Leaning back against the cushions, he finally rested on his back with her on top of him, her chest pressed against his. Making sure that the blanket covered all of her, his arms shifted her slowly. Moving her head so it rested in the nape of his neck, he sighed blissfully when her breath tickled the skin of his neck. Thomas had closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth, her fragrance and the simple fact that he was free to hold her.

Just another moment…had been his last thought, when his arms encircled her, holding her cautiously, one of her hands resting on his chest, a small smile grazing her lips.

The sound of her calm breaths was interrupted by a content sigh that escaped her relaxed form and his arms tightened their grip briefly.

It had been the last thing he had remembered before being awoken by someone shaking him by the shoulder. He turned his head, trying to hide his face in the cushion.

A short laugh filled his ears.

“Thomas.” A hushed voice that was filled with the sweetness of a tired smile said and a soft growl rumbled in his chest. His arms still around her, he pulled her flush against his body. A surprised whimper echoed through the room and his right hand came up to smooth over her hair.

“Go back to sleep.” he told her, his voice a bit slurry.

Another short laugh tickled his neck. So nice. They should do this more often.  
“Thomas!”she said again. “Wake up. Come on!”Another soft shake.

Turning his head towards her, he opened his eyes a bit. It was still rather dark, the sun not up yet. A groan answered her before he closed his eyes again.

“It’s Saturday, you don’t have to go to uni…” he mumbled, his cheek snuggling against the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”

His mind was far too numb right now. Thomas didn't realise that this was not one of those dreams that made his nights sweet. More than once had she been in his bed, pressing her soft body against his in those blissful hours of dreaming. He was still too caught up in those smooth depths of sleep to wrap his mind around the fact that this here, this warm, fragile moment, was not part of those hours.

Until, a moment later, fingertips travelled down the bridge of his nose and up again, smoothing the line that was his right eyebrow... tapping the tip of his nose after a delicate silence.

Thomas' eyes flew open and was confronted with the timeless beauty of her eyes.

"There you are." she said and smiled a shy smile.

Oh God, he had fallen asleep.

"Sorry..." he said and let go of her. The next thing he did was gazing around for the clock. 4.27. Goodness! He sat up, also helping her to kneel between his legs. She had never looked more celestial. Hair dishevelled, eyes bright and shining, her skin glowing in the dull lights from outside. The calm, slightly embarrassed atmosphere was more delicious than any heated tumble he had ever experienced with other women. As she sat there, playing nervously with the blanket he had covered them with, she was the epitome of natural beauty and innocent allurement.

"I... sorry for falling asleep. Why didn't you wake me up? Your back must be killing you." she said while moving away from him.

“I didn’t want to wake you…” he said apologetically, bringing his feet on the ground, withstanding the urge to pull her back to him.

“That’s sweet of you…” she said. His eyes travelled towards her, but she was not looking at him. Oh God, if only he didn’t have to leave today! Taking it to the next level and leave right afterwards would only confuse her, maybe even lead to her doubting his motives. No. As much as he would like to feel her lips on his now, this was a bad moment.

“My back is fine, by the way. It’s been a while since I slept this well, to be honest.” he said instead of finally telling her that everything he wanted was for them to sleep like this every night.

\----- 

“Thomas?” Ben’s voice pulled him out of those sweet memories and he shot him an almost innocent look, his left eyebrow raised.

Marcus was laughing.

“God, I like that girl already if she get’s you to finally keep your mouth shut for once!”

Thomas could not help but chuckle as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comment, dear irishgirl321 and all those kudos people! They made my day ^^  
> This chapter will have fluff and violence, though I did not describe it in gory detail, so it should  
> not be too triggering.   
> Have a lovely Sunday (or a lovely day in general, depending on when you will read this)!

Chapter 6

 

It would be three months after you had moved into his apartment when you finally met Mr. Marlowe, a quite pleasant, though a bit commanding man in his late 60’s (or so you had guessed).

It had turned out that he was looking for Thomas, who had been down with the flu –much to his own frustration. One night he had opened the door to the apartment, which had confused you. On any other day he would have called in advance, not wanting to startle you. While you thought it a bit over-considerate, since this WAS his apartment, you had gotten quite used to it. So, when you heard the door opening you had spun around, slightly alarmed.   
To your short-lived, but instant relief it had only been Thomas…Who looked utterly fucked! There was no sugar coating it. Dark bags under his eyes, slightly brighter and glassy eyes. His steps had lacked their usual confidence and elegance. Anyone else but you would have said he was staggering. But Thomas Welsh did not stagger! While you were quite used to his aristocratic pallor, sickness had turned the attractive paleness into one of waxy complexion.

“Good God, Thomas!”you had breathed and had been on your feet before you knew it. When you had approached he held one hand out, the other clutched into a fist in front of his mouth while he had coughed violently, his once solid stance ruined by the shaking of the coughs.

“Don-“a fit of coughs had interrupted his warning not to come closer.

In the end you had helped him anyway to get to the bigger bedroom and had given him a hand when it had come to getting him out of his shoes –every time he had bowed down to unlace them he had become nauseous–and his jacket and the vest. You had been busy with his tie when you had given him a stern look.

“How long have you been sick?” you hadasked and he sniffed.

“It’s nothing.” he had said in a voice that was painful to your ears. It had been raw, rough and raspy –in a bad way.

“Sweetie, are you the last man who does not pretend to be dying from a cold? Because in that case I am sorry to inform you that I’ll simply have to marry you.” you had told him dryly, relieving him from the silk.

_…Oh God! Tell me I did not just say that!_

“I will survive!” Thomas had said, a small smile on his face before he had started to cough again.

You had sighed while shaking your head in frustration. The flirting had increased over the past few weeks. On both sides! Which had freaked you out and had made you jubilant at the same time. Ever since you had moved in, he had never had another girlfriend or affair or whatever over. At this moment you had still been eager to ignore your feelings for him, far too scared to face them. Frankly: Both of you were being idiots about it. Unreasonably scared to just test the waters you still crept around the edges, waiting for that one sign to come. 

“Thomas, seriously: Have you seen a doctor?” you had asked.

He had nodded in silence before saying:

“I’ll be as good as new and able to marry you in about 8 days. Absolute rest and all that nonsense.” he had told you in that voice that wasn’t half as pleasant as his usual tone. Leaving him sitting on the bed, staring blankly at nothing in particular you had started to look for his pyjamas. Opening the large wardrobe you found suits, suits and –who would have guessed it?!–suits.

“Thomas, where are your pyj…hey!” you had exclaimed and rushed towards him when he had started to nod off and had been about to fall off the bed. Grabbing his shoulders, you had given his cheek a light smack. “Toto, you can sleep in a minute! Now you have to stay with me, okay? Sweetie, where are your pyjamas?”

He had moaned and pinched his eyes shut.

“I can undress myself, I’m not an invalid!” he had grumbled and you had smiled despite yourself.

“Just let me get it for you and afterwards I’ll leave you alone…Did your doctor give you any prescription or…”

“Coat…” he had interrupted and rubbed his eyes, while you had placed your palm on his forehead. His skin had been scalding hot and sweaty.

When you had found something for him to wear, you had rushed out of the room to fetch the paracetamol that you found in his coat-pocket and also put the kettle on the stove to make tea. There weren’t a lot of things you knew about medical issues. But since you had suffered from more than one flu during your days away from home and had taken care of sick roomies, you knew one or two things. So for the next two days you had made sure he drank enough water, tea and juices, cooked healthy food and had ordered him to stay in bed.

It had not been too hard to do so. The fever had made him languorous and he slept a lot, which made you extremely glad. Sleep, drink and healthy food were –according to your mum–the best therapy, though you also trusted in the use of paracetamol.

 

 

When Oscar –the friendly guy who worked at the house’s reception–had called two days later you had just done some work for university. He had announced a guest for Thomas, his associate Mr Marlowe.

Thomas had mumbled something about him dropping by and you had volunteered to call him and postpone his visit, but he had been stubborn.

Well, there was no way you would allow Mr Marlowe to wake your friend now, but you had asked him to come up anyway. There was no need to be impolite and you did not want Thomas to get in trouble. From what you had heard, his associate could be difficult if he set his mind to it.

Upon opening the door you saw a tall, well-built, nearly bald man with a nicely trimmed beard in a dark suit. He eyed you in interest, but a frown turned his expression rather severe soon. Not wanting to cost him any of his time, you explained that Thomas had mentioned that he might pay him a visit that would be about business, but that there was simply no way he could talk about anything in a coherent, sober way.

The older man had insisted on seeing him though, but that had been one of those times you saw fit to remain firm, telling him to come back another time when Thomas could at least sit up and dress without assistance.

“Young lady… do you know who you are talking to?” he asked, a bit of a growl in his voice and the urge to recoil had been strong. But no matter who he was and even if the safety of the world had depended on it, you would not allow him to disturb your friend.

“Sir, please! I do not mean to be impolite or get Thomas into trouble. But even if you were the Prime Minister or the Prince of Wales I would not go and wake him.” you had said in a firm, yet imploring voice. “I will tell him that you were here to see him, I promise!”

The bald man’s eyes had narrowed as he had looked you over once more. The expression in his eyes had been extremely hard to place.

“Are you his new PA or the new play thing?” he had asked, making you blush. Such bluntness surprised you.

“Neither.” You had told him, almost glaring into his eyes. The answer and your rather biting tone made him frown, though you could have sworn there had been a slight twitch of the corners of his mouth.

“What are you then?” he wondered, sounding as if he had just found a member of a rare species he had not seen before.

“I’m his friend.”

That had made him laugh because no one had ever done anything like this before. You shushed him, which almost made him roar with laughter.

“Oh my dear…I beg your forgiveness!” he had said between laughs and you blinked confused.

“Sir?”

He still chuckled in delight, stepped forward and clapped you on the shoulder while walking further into the apartment.

“You’re precious!” he informed you and you had glared at the back of his skull. When he sat down on the couch his eyes lingered on the books and the notepads you had left there. “It seems that I am both interrupting Thomas and you!”

A sigh had blossomed in your chest, but you held it back and smothered it. This was still Thomas’boss…or associate. Or whatever he was! Mr Marlowe was important for your friend, so you would play it nice.

“Oh, no, that’s fine with me…I’ll still not…”

His eyes had made you fall silent. To say that their expression was threatening would have been a lie, neither were his eyes unfriendly or particularly cold. There was just this almost paternal superiority that demanded silence and obedience. Obedience would be a major issue here, but silence was debatable. Said silence had been short lived however. But it was he who broke it, which probably made the difference.

The intelligent, not altogether unpleasant brown eyes had studied you for a while.

"A month ago, Thomas and I had lunch together." Mr Marlowe had said in a calm voice. Okay?! So what did this have to do with anything? "I informed him of my plan to invest into some prestigious pieces of art that were available in an auction the Tuesday after our meeting. Two days later -Monday- he sent me an e-mail with a most informative over-view of the works I had been interested in. History, former owners... But you know this of course!"

It had not been a question. Of course you knew. One day Thomas had called and had asked whether or not you would be too busy to help him out with a favour for his associate. Naturally, you had told him that you would love to help and had started working instantly. For once it felt good to be able to do something for him, after he had been the one doing all those nice things. The auction had been prestigious indeed and summing up any sort of information that might indicate the worth –be it of financial as well as historical nature– of the works of art had been fun and very interesting.

"I did not know it was for you, Mr Marlowe... I hope you found the little leaflet helpful." you had told the elderly man in front of you. For some reason you did not dare to sit down. This man did not seem unpleasant, but somehow he had a very intimidating air about him.

“My personal adviser on such matters was quite thrown off at how thorough you had been. Good work.” he had said, his voice very calm, no change in intonation. His eyes rested on you and seemed to read you.

“Ah… It was nothing, really. I’m glad I could be of use.” You told him in all honesty.

The air had relaxed slightly and a short smile appeared on his face.

“Are you always this thorough?” he suddenly asked in a friendly voice that did not seem to fit the severe look he had sported some minutes earlier.

“I try… well, there are things more enjoyable to focus on than others of course.” you told him and shrugged, finally feeling silly and sat down. “But this was very interesting and I wanted to do Thomas a favour, you see?!”

Something in Marlowe’s eyes had twinkled.

“Is that so…” he said under his breath and you did not quite hear him. A moment later he was on his feet and you quickly rose yourself. The older man grinned. “Tell him to call me as soon as you allow him to, will you?”

“Of course.” you said, mirroring his grin and he chuckled.

 

 

Two hours later you had peeked into the dark bedroom where Thomas had been asleep for most of the day –thank God! While he was not one of those men who would complain and make a fuzz over a little cold, he was however terribly fidgety. Just after the fever had gone back a little he had surprized you by walking fully clothed into the living-room. Needlessly to say, you had ushered his ass right off to bed again, his light-headedness helping to get your point across.

You walked slowly over to the bed and sat down the tray with food –clichéd chicken soup and some fruits– on one of the nightstands. Moving onto the bed with one knee your hand gently touched his forehead. He jerked violently, eyes flying open and he started to look around, sucking in air simultaneously.

“Shhh! It’s just me, don’t worry.” you told him, leaning closer with a small, reassuring smile. Your hand turned and the back of your hand touched his cheek, checking his temperature. “How do you feel?”

“I’m tired.” he breathed, his voice still raspy.

“That’s okay, dear!” you cooed and caressed his head gently, his eyes closing again. “You have to eat something though. Your body needs it.”

He shook his head slowly.

“…sleep.” he said weakly and you felt the strong urge to cradle his head in your arms, holding him against you.

But no.

“First some soup, okay? Afterwards I will leave you alone.” you said, your voice tender as if talking to a child instead of a man who was –at least!– twice your size.

“No!” he suddenly said, his sickly sweaty hand coming up to hold onto your shirt, clutching it. This wasn’t re-enforcing old role-models at all! But you allowed it since he seemed dreadfully out of humour.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stay.” you promised. His hold on you did not lessen though and he seemed very distrustful about your words. To prove to him that you would not go anywhere, you slipped out of your shoes and knelt down on the bed completely, which put him at ease. Helping him to sit up, you made sure he was still covered be the warm duvet. At first you made him drink some water, afterwards watching him while he ate his soup. You had thought about telling him that his boss or associate or partner or whatever Marlowe was, had been here. Seeing that he was quite easily excited though, you had decided against it.

Before his soup was finished, his eyelids became heavy and he was nodding off. After you had taken the bowl out of his hands he laid down once again, eyes already closed, when he turned towards you. Without thinking, you ran your fingers through his dark hair. It was quite tangled, greasy and unruly by now.

A small fit of coughs forced their way out of his throat, making him cringe. Bowing forward you placed a comforting hand on his back. It had gotten quite a bit better already, but he still seemed in pain and his temperature was rather high, though not alarmingly so.

For a moment none of you said a word and you were about to get off the bed, thinking that he had fallen asleep, when his hand let go of your shirt and started grasping for your hand.

“I hope I did not scare you… With the things I said.” he said, voice breathy and uncharacteristically screechy. Everything about him, from his voice to his behaviour had changed due to his sickness. While he had still been trying to remain in some control at first, the high fever he had in the first night after coming here had rendered all those attempts futile.

 

 

In his illness he was like all others. Vulnerable. Weak… and apparently scared. Because another thing he and all other sick people seemed to have in common, had been incoherent mumbling. When he woke with the fever two days earlier you had not been at his side, but the door had been ajar and you had heard him cry while saying your name. There had been some weird things you had seen in your life. This man crying had not been a concept you had thought possible up until then however.

“Oh, Toto…” you had breathed while approaching, sitting beside him on the bed, a small hand placed on his shoulder. The mumbling had ceased and he grabbed you, bloodshot eyes still filled with tears burning into yours before he started to look around the room in an unfocused manner. Those long, elegant but strong fingers had clawed at your skin and the fabric of your cardigan before literally gasping out the words: “I didn’t want that! I didn’t! I didn’t!” he had told you and you had tenderly cupped his face in your hands, thumbs stroking over the heated skin.

“It was just a dream, Toto.”

“You said you’d stay! You promised!” he coughed, but his feverish eyes would not look away from you. “I will not let them get you, I promise! They will not get you! I see…”

“Hey, hey, hey!” you interrupted him, embracing him, cradling his head in your arms. “No one wants to get me, Thomas. All is well. You just had a bad dream.”

It had been important to calm him down. He had shaken his head violently though, tears running down his face while his coughs ceased for the moment.

“You have to stay with me… They know now. I am sure they do… You have to stay…”

 

 

“You did not scare me, Thomas.” you told him honestly. The words had been uttered after a feverish dream and there was no credibility in those nor the words spoken after they had been dreamt. There was no need to pay them any attention. Though to be honest: You blamed part of them on his work and too much stress. He knew he didn’t have enough free time, you could see it whenever he had to tell you that he would not be able to come to one of your brunch-dates or to the opening of a new showcase you had planned in the gallery. Maybe he was worried you might get fed up with it. Yes, sometimes it had been frustrating, especially since you really wanted to show off just once! Once you had rolled your eyes, but immediately had felt bad about it. It wasn’t like he wanted to avoid you… or was it?

Lately you had gotten nervous. The thought of him bringing home some conquest making you uneasy. You weren’t sure if you were able to face a situation like that. He was considerate. Maybe he already had someone and just did not bring her along. Sure, Thomas was a free man. Intelligent. Charming. Sophisticated. Witty. Exceedingly handsome. Interesting. Sweet… Shit, it was only a matter of time until he would show up after a long business dinner with some attractive female partner or whatever. It was his right to do so. You were just his friend. And as such you would not dream of making a scene. That didn’t mean you were not afraid of that night that was sure to come in the near future.

Currently, you had other things so worry about though. His well-being!

“I should leave you alone. I will only wake you as soon as I get up.” you told him, your finger running over the bridge of his nose in soft, slow strokes. Thomas nearly purred in delight and a small smile –the first in several days– tugged at the corners of his thin lips.

“Then don’t get up?!” he suggested and you giggled, which made his tired eyes open slightly, his smile becoming brighter. You held each other’s gaze before he closed his eyes once more. “Did I ever tell you how much I love that sound?”

And then you were suddenly quite happy that his eyes were closed, because you felt yourself blush, remembering what he had told you in his delirium while he drifted off to sleep again.

 

 

He had been sobbing while in your arms. Loudly.

It had broken your heart.

“Hush, dear! Everything is okay.” you had told him while rubbing his back. His body had been shaking with coughs and sobs. Somehow this had been like seeing a parent cry. This man, the very picture of coolness and collectedness had been crying in your arms because of some nasty dream. To be honest; Even though you had asked him to tell you about the dream, you had been glad that he had refused to. If it made him cry, it would surely have scared you senseless.

“Just don’t let anyone in. Yes? Please, they will hurt you and it’s all my fault.” He begged weakly, his hands clutching onto your back. Their grip wasn’t consistent though and you felt him loosing his hold soon enough.

“Okay. I promise.” You told him, placing his head gently back onto the cushion when his hands slid off your back.

“I’m tired…” he whined while you brushed some tears off his face.

“Then sleep, sweetie… But hey, do me a favour and drink some water first, okay?” you said and reached for the glass you had placed beside the table.

“Okay…” he had said and after he had had his fill, he had looked up at you. “It’s too hot… can you take the blanket away?”

God, he sounded like a little boy now! With an amount of pity that would have unsettled him on any other day you watched as he tried to push the blankets you had covered him with off his body, but you stopped him. His eyes were those of a heart-broken puppy. Uncharacteristic for him in every way.

“Sorry. You need to stay warm. But I have a great idea.”

You had left for the bathroom and returned with a wet washrag, smiling when you had seen that he had struggled to stay awake. Taking your place beside him on top of the bed once more, you had met a curious gaze. A soft sigh had escaped his lips when the cool, wet cloth had pressed against his skin.

“Good?”

He had only nodded, while you had started to rub his face and his neck with the cloth in soft circles.

His breathing slowed down and a loving smile was on your face when he whispered the words he would not remember having said later on and were blamed on the fever by you.

It was the kind of ‘I love you’ little children whispered when they were sick. The realization of not being alone and being taken care of that hit them while their small bodies rested in a hot, soft bed was unbearably strong. You knew that. Certainly, he had not had too many people he allowed to see him like this. No one who had been allowed to take care of him while he had been ill in the past. He had trusted you and you had not disappointed.

You could not help it though. Out of a sudden, your lips had started to move. Answering him. But not out of childlike trust. You had meant it. And it had scared the hell out of you.

 

 

Indeed, he did not remember telling her that he loved her, or he would have been quick to clarify that he had not uttered those words out of gratitude or trust. What he did remember though –in all gory and devastating detail– was that dream that had woken him up, though he kept pushing the images back into the depths of his mind.

The reason for his current state had been a late night meeting of the more unpleasant kind. Hollister had finally paid the right man, an ambitious cretin who thought himself cleverer than he actually was. Rumour had it, that he had sold him important pieces of information.

Which had been reason enough for Thomas to leave the city in one particularly cold night in February 2010. Some miles outside of London, he drove up to an abandoned rail station near the river. Goodness, it was cold! Couldn’t people like that incompetent little spy wait for summer to become a nuisance? Sliding on his leather-gloves he got out of the car and walked into the damp, dark building.

_Should have brought a scarf…_ he had thought darkly, but started to concentrate on the man who had approached him. One of his men for the more physical parts of the business.

“Did he talk?” Thomas had asked, walking past the man, who had been quick to fall into step with him, though he always kept one step behind.

“Not yet, Sir.”

The dull sounds of a fist meeting a body and a pained moan had greeted Thomas who rolled his eyes.

“That’s quite enough now.” he had stated calmly and without raising his voice, when he entered the dimly lit hall where one figure sat on a chair, while 8 other men stood either around the chair or had taken position at every entrance to the room. A rather big fist had halted in its movement and the tall man turned towards him, stepping aside without hesitation. Thomas had approached, tilting his head with a half smile while he had looked over the man’s handiwork. Goodness, that little spy had been quite the mess. He had made a mental note to give the big guy a raise. “Mr… Ahm… Oh, never mind! It’s a cold night and I have other things to do.”

The man had glared at him with bloodshot eyes that had been swollen.

“I hear that you sold some information about me, though you were told by far more important people than yourself not to.” Thomas had chided in a light tone. “So if you might be so friendly as to tell me what exactly you told Hollister, I would be very obliged to you.”

The man had still glared at him, blood dripping down his chin in scarlet droplets.

“No?” Thomas had asked, mildly amused by people who thought that they had a chance in a matter such as this. “Now, don’t tell me your new employer had better means to buy your loyalty with than other people did.”

“Awogance…f ur…bosses…” the other man had groaned, the words obscured by a probable fracture of the jaw.

“The arrogance of my bosses?!” Thomas had wondered, sounding honestly intrigued. “Is that what you were trying to say? Nod if I heard you right!”

The future corpse had done just that.

“Pray tell me, what of the arrogance of my bosses?” he had asked, not unfriendly. A lot of his tone had been gently enough to be directed to a simpleton.   
Which had been exactly how Thomas had felt about the guy. It was clear to him that this man in front of him thought that he was doing the right thing. In his narrow mind he was the good guy. The one saving a mistreated ex-millionaire from vile corporate espionage that had cost him his company. This wasn’t about money! This was about misplaced virtuous behaviour.

This one little statement however, already had told him that this imbecile in front of him knew nothing of importance about him. Nothing that would get him, Benjamin or Marcus into real trouble. But that had not been why he had driven out of town in the middle of the night.

“Pay if iple…”

“Oh, you think that they play with people? Now that’s funny. Because…” with that he had grabbed a hand-full of hair at the back of the man’s skull and jerked it down, causing him to look up at Thomas. “…I can’t see how you are not playing.” he had hissed.

When he had let go of the hair, he had turned around and stepped away from the chair, before turning towards Hollister’s spy once more.

“So, you see we are both familiar with the game. And here are the rules: You are going to tell me –in proper English– what you told Hollister about me. And you may keep the rest of your teeth.”

By this point he had not felt the cold anymore. His only interest had been to find out if her safety was still guaranteed.

“Vell… Velsh…” he had said almost mockingly.

_Okay…_

“For vone fing I gave him your name…” he had flinched, his bones and muscles obviously hurting. “Not one of those fake identities, but the real one.”

His eyes had briefly narrowed at Mr I-am-in-control-here.

“And…” the man had chuckled. And that had made him nervous. “I know for a fact that you have other things to ahm… do!” he had said with a double-entendre that had made Thomas’ heart stop. His eyes had widened for the briefest moment, but apart from that his posture and his facial expressions had been controlled, even though he had wanted to smash this man’s face in. “She surely is a pretty little thing…”

This had done it! The fist that had collided with the informant’s ear and his temple had been enough to shut him up. Thomas had cursed inwardly. God, that had hurt! His knuckles had screamed in pain after the hard contact of the man’s skull and it had almost caused him to add a kick into the git’s visage for good measure. But damn… his hand would need some ice later. Stretching his fingers for a bit to regain control over himself and the ache he had stared the spy down.

“I suppose you will have problems with hearing on that ear…” he had growled as if nothing had happened. With his other hand –the one that did not ache– he had jerked the head to the side, hissing into his ear. “What does Hollister know about her?”

“N-Nothing yet…” the other being had slurred. “Is… innocent…”

Oh now, that was rich!

The young man had turned to the man who had met him at the entrance.

“Did you find any documents?”

The slightly shorter man had stepped forward eagerly, handing over a folder with his name on it. In it he had found a document with his name on it, but also a fake CV. It was just one of his early aliases. The next sheets of paper were pictures of his house and the apartment building with respective addresses scribbled on them. And then a bound stack of pictures of him and her. And her name, workplace and several other pieces of information about her written on a last sheet of paper.

Innocent. Bullshit! This bastard had just waited for someone who would pay enough. It’s what he would do. This whole “She’s innocent and it would be wrong!”-talk was just a reassurance to make sure he would not get hurt. Too late.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” Thomas had asked, his voice dangerously calm.

The other man had just stared at him, suddenly realizing what was going on. And then his breathing finally became more rapid.

“Hang on! No… I- I would not have sold anything about her! And Hollister only has your name! I can call him tomorrow! Tonight! Tell him that I found out the things I told him had proven to be wrong! I will do it, I promise!”

Oh, what an idiot!

“When did you sell this to him?”

“F…four days ago.” the individual had whimpered.

“What exactly?”

“The CV… and the address in Hampstead…”

“And you don’t think that he would have been clever enough to have me followed? Let me guess: He did not call you since then.”

“N… How…?”

_He knows!_

The thought had raged through him like lightning. Hollister did not need this guy anymore. He had his address, his name and could have him followed. This was a nightmare!

“Clean this up.” Thomas had said, turning and walking away, his thoughts already on several approaches to this new problem. He had to call Benjamin! This was a problem. If they abducted or threatened to hurt her, he would do everything to save her. And this would have consequences for all of them

“Wait… wait, I can help! Hollister trusts me… Wait! Welsh! Please… Please, I… No!”

His voice had died down suddenly, but Thomas had already left the room and was headed for his car. After twenty minutes of driving he had called Benjamin.

“Do you have any idea how late it is, boy?” Ben had asked.

“I did not wake you did I?” Thomas had countered in a serious tone that indicated the serious topic of his call.

“Oh my… what happened?”

 

 

He had not gone to bed that night and by dawn his throat had started to hurt. Tea had not helped. Shit, he should have taken a hot shower after returning.

But his anxiety had kept him from doing anything that would have relaxed him the slightest bit. His mind was set on making sure Hollister would not get near her. Thomas made several calls –some people never slept– to gain information if anyone had been hired to spy on her exclusively. There had indeed been inquiries, but now they would run into the wrong direction.

By the break of the second day, Thomas had not been able to think anymore and Marcus had told him to ‘take a freeing break’ because he apparently looked ‘like a walking, talking corpse’. He had disregarded all warning signs.

Which had brought him here.

All he wanted was getting back to his feet. He had things to take care of!

People to take care of.

He would teach Hollister a very important lesson of how it felt like when someone threatened a person who was dear to you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! Thank you, thank you, thank you for those kudos and the  
> lovely comment :)
> 
> I dedicate this chapter to dear irishgirl321.

Chapter 7

 

“Mr Hollister… I am so glad you could make it!” Thomas had said when the ex-CEO walked into the room of the unfinished skyscraper. Although; walked might be a bit of a euphemism here, since he had been accompanied by two very intimidating and tall men, a hand of each grabbing the man's upper arms in a way that did not seem too comfortable. Outside the world had seemed to be ending, heavy and cold rain darkening the whole city.

“Lennox… or should I say: Welsh?!” the other had asked darkly, his voice not able to fool anyone. This man had been scared beyond compare. The slight tremor, the slightly higher-pitched tone that sometimes indicated tense shoulders, the missing bite behind his words, it all had spoken volumes. To think that this shaking wimp had made Thomas uneasy for a considerable amount of time was beyond laughable and he had boiled with rage. It would end tonight. After he had filled Ben in, the next few steps had been painfully easy.

“The very same…” he had said, not wanting the other man to know about the little chat he had had with the spy who had found his final resting place in a fresh, unmarked grave on a church yard. “How did you find out, if I may be so keen as to ask?”

Hollister had grinned nervously, his left eye twitching slightly.

_Good!_

“An acquaintance of mine shared my opinion about you and your bosses, ought to be stopped. That your behaviour could not just go unchecked.”

“Oh, so he found out about the three old geezers, too, yes?” Thomas had asked suavely, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black coat.

“Thorough work has always been of great value to my family as you might know!” the shorter man had said in response, trying to hide his surprise.

_What an idiot!_

Not only had he given away that the information he had been fed had been fake, but had also proved to him that this whole affair had still rather personal to him. Fuck and this idiot had kept him on his toes for five months now. Preposterous!

At first he had had second thoughts about the plan they had come up with to shut Hollister up for good. With every passing second however, it had become easier to see that his next step was justified.

And who had claimed that he was a nice person in the past 7 years? Besides her…

 

\-------

 

The thought of those gentle hands turning pages of thick, leather-bound books, holding each page between her thumb and her middle- and forefinger while holding them, had been able to have him keep a clear head. A soft smile had been on her lips while she made quick notes into her notebook.

“Hello you.” he had greeted her while approaching, his voice startling him. He remembered that even to his ears it had sounded so much softer than at any other point in time before.

The woman he loved –seated on the light grey carpet on the floor, surrounded by books– had turned towards him, a warm smile welcoming him home, her eyes bright with joy.

What a lovely creature…

“Hey!”

“What is this constant avoidance of the couch?” he had joked and sat down on said piece of furniture, only a few inches away from her. The shortest laugh had escaped that lovely mouth of hers.

“I don’t _avoid_ the couch! It’s just easier to think down here…”

Was the night they had spent together as often on her mind as it was on his? That night in December, when he had held her in his arms, her breath caressing his skin, her warmth lulling him in… It had haunted him with sweet agony.

By then he had already made a decision. Soon everything would have been be resolved and he would be able to tell her that he was all hers and that he always had been. Next week she would host the opening of a new showcase in the gallery she worked in and he had made sure that he would be able to be there. Afterwards he’d treat her to a fine dinner and a walk to Tower Bridge. Everything had started there. It was only right if things proceeded there too.

“How about a break? We could get cake!” he had offered and she had beamed up at him and had leaned her head against his right thigh. The pleasant pressure had been thrilling and he had wished for nothing more than feeling that soft hair on his skin now.  
It had been all the same, though.

This intimacy, the delicate closeness and trust was beyond anything he might have been able to come up in his wildest dreams.

Well… maybe not his wildest.

“Sounds amazing!” she had said and clapped his thigh with her small hand. Then she had shifted, turning her whole body until she looked up at him with those eyes that made his knees go weak, her chin resting on his leg. “What would I do without you?”

 

\-----

 

 _They will never even touch a hair on your head!_ , he had vowed to that sweet memory, fully realizing how clichéd it sounded. Thomas didn’t give a damn about what it sounded like. Before they would get near her, he would rip their hands off with his own bare hands. Had anyone told him at any other point in time how ludicrously in love he would be with this woman, he would have laughed in their face. People had been replaceable.

Playthings.

Mere diversions from his stressful and busy daily life.

Enter her.

Or rather Re-enter her!

“I think we should talk about the possibilities of getting my seat as CEO back, wouldn’t you?” Hollister had asked, gaining confidence.

Thomas’ beloved mother had taught him not to play with his food. But then again he had always been more of a cat-person for a reason.

“What makes you think so?” he had asked, one brow arching in fake-surprise.

Hollister had sneered at him and he had been fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I have more than your name.” he had teased and Thomas frowned at him. The other man had shoved his hands into his pockets, his back straightening.

 _Oh my, this will be fun._ He had thought before Hollister continued.

“Your little affair is a lovely girl.”

This man had seen far too many movies. Had he really thought that he could say things like this and walk out of here with everything he wanted?

The young man had been displeased by her being considered a mere affair of his. Not that it mattered. Hollister was an idiot. Additionally the man in front of him could not have been too sure how important she was to him. She had been living in that apartment for some months then, granted. Still; this was in no way long enough to assume a long-term relationship.

He had remained silent, measuring Hollister, who had mistaken the meaning of this.

“My acquaintance was so friendly to hand your two addresses to me and one day, around 4 weeks ago, I received a picture of her. You’re a lucky man, aren’t you?” he had mocked, actually loving that moment and Thomas had decided to play along.

“How about you leave her out of it?” Thomas had asked, his voice a mere growl.

“How about I don’t and something happens to her if I do not get my company back?” the older man had countered.  
An uneasy silence had hung between the two of them. One of them believed the short moment of fear he had thought to recognize in the other’s face had meant that he had won. The other man had counted back from 10. “And don’t bother to threaten me. In case anything should happen to me, no one would be able to stop the people I paid to pay your little whore a visit.”

Thomas had placed his arms behind his back to hide the way his hands turned into fists, knuckles white from their tight grip.

10…

9…

8…

“You would not want that would you?” that imbecile had continued, mistaking Thomas’ change of stance for insecurity.

7…

6…

5….

“I was a bit surprised, you know? While you were working for me you had quite the reputation with the ladies! Anyhow! I would really like to talk to your boss now. I’m a bit tired of conversing with a love-sick errand boy. You will give me his number. Now.” he had said smugly.

4…

3…

“Why do you think my boss cared whether or not something happens to someone I know?” Thomas had asked, keeping his voice in check. Which had been hard to do. In another life he might have become a very talented actor!

 _I think I would do a lot of Shakespeare_ _…_ _I_ _’_ _d be a great Iago!_

It had been important to keep his mind off the image of himself strangling that bastard.

“Oh, I don’t, boy! I would just like to let Mr Mortimer know that I found out about his little involvement in the murder of two of his former associates.” The other man had purred, referring to Marlowe’s alias or rather the person that had been created to impersonate Marlowe in forged CV’s and alternative aliases.

2…

1…

_Enough now._

He had allowed this distasteful banter to go on long enough now.

“You don’t want them to visit her do you? I mean: A pretty little thing like her?! God, I can barely imagine what they would do with her.” Hollister had tried another technique. Putting pictures of her suffering in his head.

It had worked. He had imagined her beautiful eyes filled with tears while she was screaming, her lovely skin broken, ugly hands touching her, ripping her apart…

It had worked alright.

That had not been in Hollister’s best interest though! Not at all!

“Probably the same things they would do to your daughter?!”

His voice had not just been dark. Neither had it been just a growl.

It had been alarming in it’s controlled calmness.

He had not just threatened and intimidated a man who had thought Thomas was a no-one. He had as good as promised to destroy everything he loved and held dear.

“Michelle?!” Thomas had called, half-turning his body towards someone Hollister had not been able to see. The two men had kept their eyes on each other. “Your daddy is here now. Wanna say hello?”

“Hey, daddy!” the voice of a girl had squealed from another room and Hollister had tried to move forward, but then the hands of the two men who had escorted him in had grabbed his shoulders to jerk him back.

“Michelle!” he had breathed, eyes glued to where the voice had come from. The noise of shuffling were heard and then a small bark and the beautiful sound of a laughing child, clear as a bell.

“Such a sweet girl. I am surprised she’s yours… If you had doubts: She indeed is, however! The people who work for me ran some tests.”

The middle-aged man had gasped.

“Working for…”

Another laugh.

“Now, now, Mr Hollister! We do not want to loose sight of what is important now, do we? I think you were just threatening to have the woman I love raped before I so rudely interrupted you?” he had asked, his voice and tone as smooth and light as if he had been debating the weather. All while walking towards the ex-CEO in long, controlled steps, his pale hands vanishing into black leather gloves.

“What did you do to my daughter, you m…ugh…”

For some reason the worried father had had issues to continue. Thomas, having grabbed his throat with a gloved hand, pressing his palm roughly into his opposite’s Adam’s apple might have played a significant role in his sudden…restraint.

“So apparently you still hold those dear double standards of yours close to heart, do you now?” the young man had commented, his grin feral.

“What do you want, you fucking maniac?”

The moment the f-bomb falls, you know people are loosing their mind, unable to hold onto calm, collected thoughts. Their emotional side taking over, turning them into prey for those in control.

“I just thought I would grant your daughter the puppy she wanted so badly to have… It’s important for children to learn about responsibilities early on in life.” he had said, tightening his grip. “What were you planning on doing with her?” Thomas hissed between his teeth, his tone completely changed.

“Don’t hurt my daughter… Shelly didn’t do…”

“I guess that’s your responsibility, Hollister! Now be a good daddy and make sure your little girl can go home tonight. Safe and unharmed.”

Another soft giggle and the sound of shoes running around, followed by a soft bark.

Hollister had told him everything. About his plan to have her followed whenever she was alone –he shivered at the thought, her independent and sociable nature making her an easy target– telling him who he had paid and how they had planned to hurt her in case he refused to cooperate. This man was not some criminal genius. But the men he had paid were dangerous and unstable.

Good thing no one paid better than him, Benjamin and Marcus.

“Too bad, that your ‘acquaintance’–as you called that ridiculous spy– was as poorly informed as yourself about the bigger picture. Because I, work FOR no one. And especially not for the people on that fake CV you were sold.” he had hissed. Hollister’s eyes had grown wide.

“You’re lying…”

“Want to test that theory?” Thomas had challenged and suddenly the older man seemed to understand. That peculiar flicker had been in his eyes. There and then he had come to understand who he was dealing with. Something in his demeanour changed and from that moment on Thomas had known that he had had him. The man had seemed insecure, scared and very worried.

“Just… let my daughter go!”

“Oh, but you see: Since you are planning to hurt someone whom I am extremely fond of, I feel rather reluctant to part from her. And she is such a cute little girl! You should see her with that puppy…” a dramatic pause. “Let’s ask the young lady what _she_ wants, shall we? Because this is how you treat a lady.” He had informed the older man, who got the hint. His provoking way of speaking about that woman had been everything but helpful.

“Please… I…”

“Michelle, dearest?! Would you like to play with the puppy a little longer?” he had called, not paying attention to her father’s pleading voice.

“YEEEEES!!!!”

The joyful voice had echoed through the hall and Thomas had grinned.

“I think she is very keen on staying a bit longer!” he informed the scared father who had stared blankly at him by now.

“What do you want?” he had suddenly asked.  


\-----

  
15 minutes later Thomas had handed the recorded confession over to one of his men, who left immediately after. Hollister had told the little device everything. From the double deals, the forged certificates and dealings the blackmail of partners to the contracts with people no business ought to have contracts with.

“Don’t you want me to call the people who… You know…” the older man had said, sounding insecure.

“No, those were dealt with already.” Thomas had told him, actually sounding a bit bored. Everything had been resolved! He had taken care of things and she would be safe again. All was well.

Then silence.

He had checked his phone. Benjamin had been trying to call.

“Can… can I take my daughter and I go now?”

The younger man had held up a hand to silence the other one, calling his associate back.

“Ask the cretin how many people he hired!” Benjamin’s voice had growled without any greeting and Thomas frowned.

“How many people did you hire to follow her?” he had asked, voice tense. This had been weird. And weird wasn’t good at that moment!

“F-Four… b…but this one guy… he works with someone…!” Hollister had stuttered and suddenly Thomas’ heart froze.

“I’m on it!” Benjamin had told him, hanging up on the younger man.

For a moment the young man had felt how his pulse cut through his body painfully, blood rushing through his ears loudly. No longer caring for the man who had stood in the unfinished house, he had walked towards the exit.

“Wait! What about my daughter? Michelle!!!!” Hollister had called, but Thomas had not slowed down. One of his more trusted employees threw a remote control at Hollister after having pushed ‘play’, stalking out of the room after his boss. The other man had started at the tiny, black remote control, finally understanding that his daughter had never been there. He had been fooled once more and now Welsh possessed a recorded confession. Additionally: He was not just some ambitious young businessman. This man in his late 20’s was dangerous. This knowledge alone would have kept him silent for the rest of his life, even without the record. But that thought of this… man talking to his daughter long enough to record her voice… Just then, the recorded voice had echoed through the room and he had broken into a run.

Just when the older man had rushed out of the building, a car had hit him while he had been passing the street. The last thing he saw before everything went black, were the shoes of his chauffeur running towards him.    


\--------

She should be home by now!, Thomas had thought while speeding his car through the flooded streets of London on that day in March 2010. He had called her cell-phone, but a computer generated voice told him that she was currently not available. The next call went out, Benjamin accepting the call in his ‘work’ voice.

“I know whom the third guy brought along. I am having Zachary contact him as we speak to make sure if his buddy told him the thing was off.”

“Call me as soon as you got news!”

 _Damn! If you want something done right_ _…_

Soon he had pulled up to the building, literally jumping out of the car, not caring about the rain.

He was out of his mind, dreading the thought of –NO! He was being silly! She was fine! She had to be fine!

Had the lift always been this slow? Checking his phone every few seconds, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, he had cursed under his breath. He had begun to pace, his fingers tapping against his phone when finally, after an eternity the doors of the lift had slid open and he pushed himself through the opening as soon as it would allow him to get through.

When he had opened the door to the apartment he called her name, rushing from the living-room to the kitchen, to her room, all the while calling her, waiting 3 seconds and calling again. This had been repeated 3 times until he stood in the hallway, his eyes focused on a point in time. The evening he had decided that she would stay in his life. When he had sworn to himself that no one would ever hurt her.

_Where are you?_

He was not the most religious person he knew, but if he were he would probably start praying now. Instead of just standing there, he spun around, rushing towards the door when his phone rang.

“Zachary called. He hasn’t found the guy yet. Keep calm, boy! The way I see it…”

“DAMN!” he had yelled in frustration –something he had not done in years until then– hanging up, turning around slowly. He had known that he needed to stay in control. But he hadn’t been in control. Panic had not been a feeling he had felt in so, so many years and then it hit him like a brick-wall.

And he had been furious! His frustration and helplessness, the worry and panic had brought tears to his eyes.

 _I am such a joke_ _…_ he had thought, hating himself for being so selfish as to keep her close to him even though it had always been dangerous.

A ridiculous, utter…

“Thomas?”

   
\------  


Once more the world stopped in it’s race around it’s own axis before fast forwarding into the present. There she stood.

Unharmed.

Confused.

Beautiful.

Worried.

Being honest with himself, this was the most humiliating aspect. She had seen him ill, had taken care of him. But this weak, pathetic trembling fool who had stood in front of her was not the person he had wanted her to see him as. He was never to be pitied or worried about. Not from her side anyway.

“Are you okay?” her sweet, soft voice had asked while taking off her scarf and walking towards him, the soft electric-blue woollen piece in her hand.

How the hell was he supposed to be okay?

“Where were you?” he asked, his voice rough and on the edges of aggressive and accusing.

She had looked a bit taken-aback by his tone, but he had been too frustrated to care.

“I was at my friend Angie’s.” her eyes mirrored her confusion and hurt feelings. He knew that she had not appreciated his tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Why is your phone off?” he nearly snapped and her eyes had widened, her face looking quite distressed.

Thomas had known deep down that she had no idea about his worries or how she had been in great danger before entering the apartment. Deep down. Not at the surface however. On the surface he was unable to control his emotions.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked and he had glared at her.

“Are you hard of hearing?” he challenged and that was when she had started to look sad, confused and irritated at the same time.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, her voice low. When he had started to talk to her in such a manner she had stopped walking towards him and her fingers were tugging at her scarf nervously. He could see it in her face. She was thinking about what she had done to be treated this way, it was written all over her face. Looking back at this moment, he would remember that he had not even felt bad about analysing her. Her posture gave away that she was too shocked to be angry, her body shrinking away from him the slightest bit. She was hurt. She was confused. And it had all been his fault.

In his frustration and unreasonable anger words had eluded him. All he would have been able to do was to snap at her, simply because he could not control the emotions. Thomas should have been relieved, glad, maybe even happy about her standing in this apartment. But he wasn’t! He was furious. At himself mostly. Because he wanted her in his life and would never be able to rest assured that she would survive it. And he could not even tell her why he was worried. If she were to find out anything about the way he earned a large amount of his money with, she would not stay with him.

She would draw back.

Leave him.

Without looking back.

His secrets –he dared not alluding to them as crimes at that moment– would break her heart. That warm, sensible, loving heart he wanted to cherish more than anything else.

No… he should not be mad at her.

It wasn’t her fault he loved her and was too gutless to fill her in.

So he turned away with a frustrated growl and stalked into the other direction. If this conversation had went on any longer he might have made things worse.

“Thomas!” she whispered, her words colliding with his back. He pretended not to hear her. Not now. He’d apologize later. He’d come up with something that would explain his behaviour. “Fuck, Thomas!” she yelled, and he froze. There was this tremor in her voice. That shaking undertone. The instability of tears that were drenching her voice.

Thomas closed his eyes, his jaw making a peculiar movement and gritted his teeth.

_Oh darling, don’t do this to me…_

“If you are going to be an utter ass, then at least tell me what I did!...” she asked, trying to keep her voice under control. “Thomas… Why are you so mad at me?”

He couldn’t think.

Thomas registered that he had spun around.

Those wide, swift steps and out of a sudden he held her face in his hands.

His dizzy mind cleared when his lips brushed against hers at last, a warmth he never knew setting the ends of his nerves on fire, while he caressed her sweet, soft, perfectly shaped lips with his own.

And then that gentle, mind-boggling pressure that answered his desperate call.

Pale, elegant hands left her face to brush her coat off her shoulders.

“Forgive me!” he whispered without breaking the contact of their lips and pulled her body against his, her heat, her taste, her fragrance devouring all coherent thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex in this chapter and it's just the second time I actually wrote smut. I hope it'll be okay, because  
> I re-wrote parts of it 2 times, not wanting it to sound too artificial. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the lovely comments and the kudos guys, they mean a lot and really  
> made my day!

Chapter 8

 

 

“I need you!” he breathed before he buried his face in the hollow of your neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin. A surprised sigh escaped you before you settled your arms around his neck. Your hands placed themselves on the back of his head, fingers brushing through his soft hair. Tilting your head to allow him more comfortable access, you found yourself gasping as electricity raged through your nerves every time his teeth grazed your delicate skin.

There was no difficulty in believing his words when one of his hands travelled down to cup the round curve of your derriere before pushing you up into his growing erection.

The sound of your erupting moan grew louder when you felt a wall colliding with your back.

“Then take me!” you breathed hoarsely and pushed his coat off of him, his suit jacket following immediately.

Some years ago you had read somewhere that –allegedly– real men push women up against a wall while kissing. While those strong, but tender hands did just that, you were very unwilling to differ! You felt a dizziness that was comparable to being drunk, but without the nausea or emotional breakdowns. He tasted like no other, making you long for more of him, while you became intoxicated from his kisses. The resulting light-headedness made you grab a handful of his shirt and his hair while his tongue kept flicking against yours.

He started to move you to the bedroom and you went along more than willingly, all the while your busy hands removed pieces of clothing from each other’s bodies.

With every piece you threw to the ground, you saw more of that pale, but smooth skin. The well-defined muscles of his upper body, the wonderfully shaped shoulders. Heck, even the veins on the insides of his forearms where sexy. Not a lot of men liked to be called beautiful and would rather go with handsome at a maximum. But this man here wasn’t just handsome. He was beautiful! It was as simple as that.

Soon after he let the shirt drop to the floor, his eyes gazing down at you lovingly all the while, you pressed a first kiss on his chest. A second was placed barely millimetres over the first one. This was repeated for five more kisses, until he gently placed two fingers under your chin, his other hand on the back of your head. By now his gaze was no longer gentle, but had a wolfish, lewd glint. It did not scare you. Instead it made you ache for him and you placed your hands on his belt to undo it. Thomas chuckled.

“Now, now…” he chided and said your name and it had never sounded like this. It was spoken in a husky voice that dripped of sex, increasing the arousal that had you moist and swollen by now. “Don’t you think…” he unclasped your bra. “It’s my turn now?”

Placing one arm around your body, he whirled around and placed you in his lap as he sat on the bed. He leaned your upper body back against his arm that was still around you. His hungry blue eyes had settled onto your breasts and you shuddered with longing when he flicked his tongue over his lips.

“Let’s see if they taste as good as I always imagined, hmm?” his was voice but a low, filthy growl. When his lips closed around your nipple, you arched your back towards his face. Thomas moaned in sync with you while sucking the hardening peak. While he circled his tongue around it, his free hand reached into your simple, not really seductive panties. Your breath hitched when his finger started to slide through your swollen slit.

“Oh, Tho…ah!” you yelped when he suddenly bit the nub in his mouth. When he looked up at you after releasing your nipple, the smirk on his face was mischievous. It grew even wider when he began to circle your clit with his digit. The sensation sent almost painful jolts of need through your whole body.

His tongue licked over his lips slowly, as if savouring some fine taste. Your taste, as you realized and it made the ache for him so much worse.

“Mmm… even better than I thought.” he mused and turned your body slightly, channelling his attentions to your other breast, continuing to tease you, moaning in pleasure himself. You were simply trying not to loose it completely already. His ministrations made it hard to stay in the present and all you wanted was to just feel and experience. The flick of his tongue, the soft pressure on your clit, those other two fingers sliding through your swollen folds. It was an invasion on your senses and whimpers, sighs and moans from your lips only urged him on. His mouth lifted away from your flesh, while his tongue kept flicking over the hardened peak.

“You’re luscious, darling!”

You writhed in his lap, loving the feeling of that hardened bulge pressing into your butt through that soft material of his trousers. He was so unfairly overdressed, with you being completely naked yourself, safe for your thong. It was not the sexiest piece of underwear you owned, nor the prettiest. It wasn’t even black or made of silk or anything like that. Nothing like the stuff he was probably used to see while undressing other girls…

A first wave of nervousness swept over you, but it ebbed off pretty quickly when he inserted a single finger up to the first joint into your swollen opening and you moaned.

“My, how lovely…” he commented, his voice like silk and you moans soon became whimpers because he removed his finger again.

“No!” you protested without thinking, your fingers grabbing his hair a bit firmer. When he chuckled, it sent shivers up and down your spine. Starting to move your hips, you tried to rub your aching pussy against his unmoving digit when he suddenly bit down on your nipple. Hard.

The shriek that left you was more out of surprise and ecstasy than out of pain. His eyes opened and flicked up to your face inquiringly anyway, while his tongue lazily circled your nipple in a soothing yet torturing manner.

“Too hard?” he asked, before lowering his head to lick across your whole breast once, swirling his tongue around the darker, hardened bud.

“No…”

“Mmmm… that’s two ‘no’s in only a couple of seconds.” his voice was so dark and full of perverse amusement that it sufficed to make you moan, even though he had stopped his ministrations altogether. Much to your displeasure!

“Thomas, please!” you breathed, voice on the brink between imperative and begging. The burning sensation between your folds had you desperate with need, the searing, tickling pain needing his touch.

His eyes narrowed slightly and he leaned away from your breasts, face coming closer to yours. He did not change your position and you remained cradled in his arm.

“I waited for those words to come out of your mouth… every evening of those past months. I wanted nothing more than for you to ask me to release us from this bloody tension and to just fuck you senseless.”

Your eyes were fixed on the predator that hovered inches away from your face and you did not dare make a sound. Not even when you felt your juices seeping out of your cunt. Every nerve inside of your body was on fire, but your breath was caught in your throat.

“By now I have imagined taking you against every wall…” with these words his finger began to whisper over your clit. “…and on every surface, no matter if soft or hard…” By now he looked ready to eat you alive.

 _If only he would…_ you thoughtlessly mused and felt yourself growing even wetter, your underwear soaked by now.

Suddenly you realized that there had been signs. The way he had held you, how he had always been eager for any kind of body contact in any way possible… You understood that he had wanted you as much as you had yearned to admit to yourself that you wanted him, too. But now that it was all on the table, why did he make you wait?

“I moaned your name so often… sometimes with you being only a few feet away. I wanted you to hear, you know? Mmm… the thought of you peaking through the door while I jerk off, your sweet, sweet name dripping off my lips…” he growled, jaw clenching. His flat hand pushed your hip down when he began to grind up against you and you started to keen shamelessly, the large bulge being very promising. “You will beg!” a shudder ran through his voice, that dark, smooth intonation of his command shaken by his own need for you. “You hear me? It sounded so bloody good the first time when it came from those pretty lips.” he said and grabbed at your hair without pulling, instead closing the distance between your faces until you felt his breath on your skin. With heavy breathes, you closed your eyes.

“Tho… AH!” you had begun, but gasped when he yanked your head back.

“Look at me… I need you to look at me!” he said, his voice still dark and controlled, but with a distinct edge to it.

“Thomas, please… I want you.” you told him, too breathless to do anything other than whimper.

He moaned and let go of your hair, grabbing your shoulder tightly instead, his other hand sliding your last scrap of clothing off of you.

“Do you have the slightest idea how nice that just sounded?” he asked and finally –finally!– started to let his fingers run over your clit, through your wet folds, down to your aching and drenched centre. He moaned, while you just allowed your head to fall back in a throaty gasp. “Now, sweetest! Those lips here are not done yet, aren’t they?” he teased, while you keened when his fingers slightly lifted away from your hot, begging flesh. “Let’s hear that lovely voice beg for me once more, hm?”

Thomas leaned into you as if to kiss you, but instead he licked over your lips slowly.

“Oh God, Thomas please…I need you to…” two fingers began to slip into you. Tortuously slow. “Yes, please… More! Please, please, plea… Oh faster, ple-”

A moan interrupted your continued pleas when he shoved his fingers deeply inside of you.

“Yes!”

Your gasps and moans grew louder as his fingers began to move in and out of you in slow but deep thrusts that created the most filthy wet sounds. Once those long, absolutely lovely fingers were completely inside of you he would start to curl them, flex them, his fingertips touching and stroking your insides. And then he pressed down on that one spot…

You nearly leaped off his lap with a loud gasp.

“Found it.” he said and grinned at you, before teasing your g-spot mercilessly. It was driving you crazy. You wanted sex. Now! As wonderful as those fingers were, you wanted his cock inside of you.

“Thoma… AHHH! Oh… Please fuck me…” you whimpered and looked him straight in the eye. “Oh God, I need your cock inside of me! Fuck me! Fuck, I need… AH!”

The juicy sound of his fingers withdrawing was all warning you had before he whirled around and dumped you onto the mattress. The soft flannel sheets were snuggling against your naked skin while you gazed up at him. You watched in awe while he pushed his trousers and his underwear down in one move, slipping out of his shoes and socks next. And then he stood there and you just stared. Even before the dark material had been gone the bulge of his crotch had been impossible to ignore. Now however…

 _Oh God!,_ you thought instantly and felt yourself grow impossibly hotter. No wonder this man had never shown the slightest need to compensate. The mere thought of this being inside of you… He’d stretch you so good…

Another thought hit you and you sat up, feeling eager to pay him back for his teasing. His cock looked far too delicious not to do it.

He made to climb onto the bed, but paused when you moved closer to him. Your eyes met and your heart burned your insides when you leaned up on your knees, your back stretching when your hands began to caress his body.

“I’m sorry for making you wait…” you said, your voice smoky and earnest. “For being such a tease…” Closing your eyes, you allowed your fingers to trace the well-defined muscles of his chest, while you began to pepper kisses onto his stomach. All the while he just stood there and watched you with this intense gaze of his. When you stretched your body up a bit more, you could feel his heartbeat press against your lips and you sighed, placing several feather-light kisses against the pulsing throbs beneath his rips. When you brought your body up to his, your breasts squeezing against the packs on his stomach, he moaned and you felt something warm and hard twitch against you. “Let me…” you paused, feeling a rush of excitement and thrill wash over you.

Once more your eyes met, a mischievous glint in _your_ eyes this time, when you leaned your chin against his upper body. He licked his lips and with a saucy smile you let your own tongue flick over your lips slowly. Without breaking eye-contact you sank down his body, his breath quickening when your head was at one level with his proudly displayed penis.

“Let me… apologize.” you finished the sentence and leaned in.

The first kiss was placed on the softer head and his erection twitched visibly at the contact. With the next kiss you closed your lips around the whole head, sliding it out of your mouth, running the insides of your lips over it, making Thomas sigh deeply.

His member twitched once more against your lips and you giggled lowly, taking hold of the thick, long shaft, keeping it in place while massaging it with soft strokes before you tongue circled round his head.

“Oh God, yes…” he moaned when your mouth closed around his long, hard member greedily. Your tongue circled the head once more before taking more of him, tongue pressing against his length. His odour and taste invaded your senses and your eyes rolled back into your head when you took him deep into your mouth, a long moan from you sending vibrations through the delicious treat inside of your mouth. The added stimulation made him throw his head back and he gasped and moaned up to the ceiling, eyes wide while his hands settled in your hair, your name a frivolous praise as it fell from his thin lips.

Wanting to give your jaw muscles a little time to adjust to his girth you withdrew your mouth with a soft moan, suckling at the head, your tongue massaging him. And then you tasted the first drops of pre-cum, licking them off of him eagerly. You began kissing along his length, savouring the way his breath hitched when you replaced your lips with your tongue on your way back up. A loud moan reached your ears when you took him back into your mouth, your head bobbing back and forth, always taking more and more of him. Your name became a succession of gasps and moans and your free hand cupped his balls in your palm, squeezing and caressing the slightly hardened sack.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed. “Oh God, you little… yes… Yes!” his voice became strained when you relaxed your jaw and took him to the hilt slowly. A long, unintelligible and high gasp appraised you, followed by obscene and filthy intelligible praise. “You fucking little… Oh it’s so fucking hot… Yeah, eat my cock, take it all… OH!”

You moaned in agreement and pleasure, knowing he’d simply loose it in a few moments. You slightly withdrew, sliding his cock out of your throat slowly, licking the tip clean once more, before you leaned back, scooting away from him. “C-Come back here immediately!” he ordered, eyes wide and dark and so, so desperate for you to suck him off.

But you withdrew from him and placed your weight upon your elbows, slightly arching your back so your breasts were displayed for his enjoyment.

“No…” you cooed and watched as he bared his lower teeth, jaw moving in irritation while he moved onto the bed in slow movements, ready to close in on his prey. Both of you had waited enough. While it was beyond you how you had been able to get your body to agree to prolonging the wait by teasing him back for a bit, you had enough now. The ache inside of you wanted him to cure it. Now.

“What was that?” he asked dangerously, while towering over your body, raised up on his knees. There was not a single part of you that remembered this man, who was ready to pound you, as your friend. He was just Thomas Welch and you longed to be properly fucked by him. No second thoughts, no fear of any consequences for your heart. And you loved that thrilling little dance.

“I said: No!” you told him and slowly –and hopefully elegantly– you stretched out on the mattress. An unwrapped present, ready for him.

Your back had barely touched the warm flannel sheets when two strong hands spread your legs roughly. He moved between your legs, one of his arms sliding beneath your body to grasp your shoulder, the other hand already positioning the tip of his tortured cock at your entrance. And then he slammed into you.

“Y-AAAAH!” you screamed, his wide girth and the considerable length stretching you in all the right places. He hissed through his teeth when he reached down for your other shoulder. His thrusts were hard, deep and unrelenting, his grip holding you in place. The wet sound of his dick slamming in and out of your pussy wrapped itself around your senses along with the moans and gasps he elicited and made you feel blissfully dirty.

“My little oooh… oh! My little cock tease! Oh shit… shit… Take me! Take it all!” he chanted, his voice a mixture of strained, deep growls and moans while his pace became faster.

“Harder! Oh… Yes, fuck my pussy… more… don’t stop! Never stop!” you begged desperately, nails clawing into the skin of his back, while your legs wrapped around him, trying to meet his thrusts with your own. A million fingers were caressing your body, teasing all the right places, the warmth setting all of your nerves on fire, making your head spin.

“…tight… so –FUCK!” he moaned when you clenched your muscles around his cock, tightening around him further. His lips crashed into yours in a searing kiss while you kept fucking each other relentlessly.

The pressure inside of your womb formed into tight, searing knots, taking your breath away, making your muscles twitch.

His voice seemed far away and all you were able to register was his continued, rough pounding and the way his large cock spread you so good. Then he shifted his angle once, twice and then his cock nudged against that one spot and you screamed while bucking your hips harder.

“THERE! Again! Please! FU- THOMAS!” you moaned loudly without shame.

“What? There?” he growled, almost sounding calm, only the slight breathlessness of his voice indicated the uncontrolled desire. Again, he hit your g-spot and the intensity brought tears to your eyes.

“Yes! Yes…” and then words failed you, replaced by grunts and moans that became louder with every new synced thrust.

Someone was screaming something, again and again, while he howled. Your senses were no more. Everything left to you was that heat, that sweet, heavy heat that embarked your nerves and senses with nothing but trembling passion. At some point he held your hips down, causing you to remain immobile. A soft pressure against your clit, some more thrusts into your soaked and swollen sex and the husky whisper of your lover, begging you to let go for him and you did just that. Your orgasm ripped you apart and put you together again into an elevated version of yourself. He yanked you up into his arms, sitting back, so you were straddling him. Your head fell back, lost to the overpowering heat of your desire. Feeling heavy, you sighed and rolled your head forward, your forehead resting against his while you both rocked your hips, him thrusting up into your over-sensitive flesh.

“Thom- Ah…” you breathed when he clung onto you.

“Say it again…” he grunted, but you had no conscious recollection to what you had said. His thrusts became erect and unstable. “Say it!” his strong voice almost broke and you handed yourself over once more, to that miraculous, burning sensation that made you forget your fears that this was all just a pleasurable way to kill time to him.

“I love you!” your words but a sigh, before he held your hips down while thrusting deep into you one last time, coating your insides with his cum, your name becoming a deep, pleasured moan.

He held you close, kissing your face repeatedly, but suddenly you felt drained. The thoughts were closing in on you and you needed all your remaining strength to keep them at bay. You whimpered softly, succumbing to the comfort of his soft skin and his alluring force of his presence.

“Shhh…” he began to whisper your name, cupping the back of your head in his hand, leaning your face into the hollow of his neck. Shifting, he finally pulled out of you and lay back, with your head resting on his chest. “Let’s rest… Sleep…”

And once more, you did what he asked of you. Merciful sleep claimed you before you could come up with the painful fear of this being the first and the last time you fell asleep on his chest.

 

…..

 

Vivid dreams of your entangled limbs ripped your mind out of your much-needed slumber with a start. Your eyes widened, while you looked around… for him. A painful pulse tightened your heart when you found that you were alone. Your limbs felt heavy, your stomach filled with bile and aggressive acid ran through your veins. You clutched the warm blanket he had covered you with and stared ahead.

_Shit… I… No…_

Too late, you realized what it had been that you had kept saying moments before your orgasm, loosing all shame and coherent thought.

_I love you…_

Who says that during their first sexual encounter? Well, safe for teenagers during their literal first time… hopefully… It was just so much more intense when it happened with someone who…

 _Not the fucking point!_ , you inertly yelled at yourself.

One over-all glance at the current situation and you realized that you had screwed up epically. Not only had you just fucked your best friend, whom you knew to be a women-magnet, you had been stupid enough to let go completely.

A cold emptiness gripped you and you tried to focus on what to do next. Truth be told: You would have liked to crawl into your own bed and just hide until you could be sure he was gone. Or was he gone? Lifting your head slowly, you glanced around the room. His clothing and your own as it seemed had been placed carelessly on an armchair by the window.

A voice came from the hall, getting clearer while the owner of the voice was approaching and you quickly placed your head back on the cushion. While you were not sure what exactly to do now, you were very sure about not yet being able to face him just yet. When the door opened you closed your eyes.

“… be fine… I’m a busy man!... Ben, if I had had a penny for every single time you do not call back immediately, I’d be able to buy Buckingham Palace from that money alone…” Thomas sounded business-like, voice slightly clipped.

_Fuck!_

“It’s been a long day and I’ll have to take care of that thing with… Oh?... Well, go ahead, I’m not too fond of that idiot anyway… But when exactly hasn’t he been?... Can I call you back on that later?… I will. My regards to the missis!”

He sighed and put something on the nightstand –probably his phone– and your heart stopped beating when the mattress depressed under an additional weight and slightly colder air hit your skin when the blanket got lifted, allowing him to slide in next to you. Cautiously and lightly, a hand was placed on your hip, while he moved next to you. A soft peck on the tip of your nose surprised you and your eyes flew open, your view being invaded by the warmth of his blue-green eyes. No stealth was left. A calm smile softened his sharp features.

“Hello.” He said huskily and leaned in to claim your lips. The kiss was sensuous and slow, with no hurry in the world, but still with this hidden heat. It overwhelmed you so much that you were barely able to reciprocate before he drew back. “Slept well?” he asked and his thumb stroked over your hip.

You nodded, still a bit embarrassed.

“Good. Because there’s some things we ought to talk about and I’d rather not have you nod off.” He said and you nodded again.

“Just…”

He’d tell you that this was a one-time thing. That you were his friend and nothing more and that you better not make a fuss. Thomas would say it gently or at least you hoped he would! Whatever the outcome of that conversation, you’d rather look a bit less dishevelled. And you’d rather be dressed! He was only wearing his underwear, but you yearned for a shower.

“Just let me shower and dress quickly…” you said in a small voice, ripping your eyes away from his beautiful eyes. A low moan erupted in his chest when you made to rise and he threw one long leg over your body, his arm traveling up to your shoulder.

“Five more minutes!” he growled and pulled you flush against him, rolling you over, so you were on top of him. His lips linked with yours once more, his hands holding your face close. He smiled when he leaned back to look at you. “I could take you again right away…” he lowered his voice until it was nothing more than a smooth, low growl. “You’re making me so desperate for you, love…”

 

......

 

He had to focus! Her heat, her pleasant weight and that freakishly soft skin drove him insane and he would have had her impaled on his cock in no time if he had not promised to himself to talk to her first. This had not gone according to plan at all!

“I did not plan it to be like this…” he confessed, sitting up slightly and by that making her sit up as well. That distracting feeling of her straddling him and pressing down on his crotch really tested his self control.

“Plan?” she asked, sounding more than taken aback.

_Oh love! Did you really believe me so unaffected by everything you are?_

Thomas ‘hmhm’d’ in confirmation and guided her upper body closer, needing to feel more of that skin. With the softest pressure of his fingertips he began to trace the outlines of her cheekbones, traveling over her jawbone, up her temples, his thumb following the bend of her nose, while softly and without a hurry tilting her head from side to side, wanting to see it from all angles. He wanted to know every soft curve.

“Do you remember that day on the Bridge? Not our day, the one when you went with class.” He said huskily, kissing her cheek, his lips lingering and placing several more feather-light pecks onto the same spot.

“Yes.” she said. “I said that I didn’t like it.”

She looked ashamed and blushed, which made him chuckle and she closed her eyes.

“Do you remember why not?” he asked, his hands traveling down her arms to catch hers in them.

A fond, shy smile painted her lips, while her blush deepened and he wanted nothing more than to kiss that delicate smile. When her eyes opened he drowned in the tenderness that radiated from them.

“Because you weren’t there… It had been so much better with you…” her voice was but a sweet, breathed whisper, so gentle and tender that he had to let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her.

“And you told me just that… As if it had to be expected.” A pause and his eyes held her in an embrace as tight as the one of his arms. “My plan was for us to go there…”

A rueful expression crossed his eyes and she slowly leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Thomas leaned into the touch, a blissful heaviness wrapping itself around his heart. A large hand spread over the small of her back, pressing her closer yet, never able to get enough of her.

“To tell you that I was yours ever since.”

Surprise flooded her eyes and he couldn’t take it any longer.

 

....

 

Those thin lips almost burned you this time, the intensity making you hold back a blissful moan but you audibly sighed. He was rock-hard once more, twitching and throbbing beneath his black boxer briefs, triggering your own arousal and having you hot and bothered in no time, the confession rendering you incapable to doubt.

His tongue flicked over your upper lip tortuously slow. You loved the sensation, but couldn’t take it any longer. Opening your lips slightly, your tongue nudged against his gently, before he invaded your mouth with soft kisses and the sensuous feeling of your tongues caressing one another.

This was heaven. Your body began to respond to all those new touches and strokes in the most intense way. Your pulse sent the intoxicating mixture of euphoria and heavy arousal through your body. And there was this other feeling that had nothing to do with physical need. It was warm and lovely and so, so scary. The feelings you harboured for him had gotten out of hand to the brink that it had started to hurt, the thought of him pushing you away had hurt more than anything. This here, this tender, intimacy felt like belonging. It felt right.

You pressed your chest against him, wanting and needing more contact. You felt dizzy and were yet tingling with delight, your hands, your arms, your whole body trembling against him. It took all your willpower not to start moving your hips, though you longed to feel more of that hardened crotch.

“I need to be… Let me…” he begged huskily and sighed, when you reached beneath you, freeing his hard cock from its restrains, sheathing it deep, deep inside of you. Both of you moaned each other’s names loudly. “I love you!” he gasped. “I love you so much, you hear me? Oh baby, yes!”

You didn’t speak, but just began to ride him. That hot, pulsing shaft filled you in a way that made you see stars when he began to thrust back into you.

“Be mine!” he hissed and you moaned loudly.

“I am yours…”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rather short chapter on his feelings and thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys a million times for the sweet words and the kudos, they really make me enjoy writing all the more! I might wrap this story up after Chapter 10, but already have 2 chapters with these two that take place in present time. This will include the first Chapter I wrote for this story.  
> I really enjoy these two and am going to explore some more villainy sides of his in the final chapter of Balloon. Because while he surely slips out of this villain-like behaviour while around her, he still is a very, very naughty boy. Up till then: Flooooff!

Chapter 9

Her breathing was even, calm and deep. The most soothing sound he had ever heard. While he couldn’t see her in the darkened room, Thomas hoped that she looked as relaxed as that one night some weeks ago. With a soft smile grazing the corners of her mouth that was slightly opened. Her lips rested against the skin of his thumb. Just before falling asleep she had taken hold of his hand, those breath-taking orbs of hers pleading with him. To prove to her that this wasn’t just some dream.

Her forehead was soft and warm when he pressed his lips against it, her hair smelling faintly of peaches.

If only she knew that he’d like nothing more than to do just that. He’d convince her that this was no longer just a pleasant dream he had loathed to wake up from during the past months. His determination was to not leave her out of his life ever again. It was obvious that no one else saw her true worth. Her beauty, her wit, her intelligence and that delightful honesty and natural and affectionate nature had held him captive with no chance of ever breaking free. To be honest, she had surprised him in bed. In all the right, mind blowing ways! She was not the kind of girl who just rested on her back and let the whole thing happen. She enjoyed sex and it was such an incredible turn-on! It would be so much fun to explore each other when both of them were enjoying it to this extend.

Yet all her exes –there were four– had left her or had allowed circumstances to unfurl in a way that this creature had seen no other way than to leave them herself.

With him it would be different. He’d make her happy, if such a crude, weak expression was even able to describe what he wanted for her.

 _Just listen to yourself…,_ he thought and snorted. He did indeed sound like a lovesick fool. A lovesick fool who had to keep his criminal activities a secret.

Leaving it behind was not an option at the time. Even if Ben and Marcus did let him off –which he did not believe they would do, since he knew so much– he still needed to uphold his reputation. Backing out would have been dangerous to all involved parties. For once, he felt quite good about the prospect of boring safety and risks you could calculate. And to be honest… he enjoyed it! He liked being naughty and not bow to ridiculous rules that were made for cowering fools.

Her fingers tightened around his hand and she sighed in her sleep.

One day maybe. When he was older. Maybe… Yes.

One day he would turn his back on everything and leave. Together with her. The mental image of beaches during sunset, her resting against him while they sat on warm sand had some nice touch to it. It surely made the idea of having to quit one day more pleasant. But at the moment it was out of the question.

Until that would change, he’d proceed in the same way he had been doing for months now. With the only exception, that she would wait for him to get home. Greet him with a kiss. Or he would attend auctions she would plan and moderate. Maybe he could surprise her with pieces of art she liked herself. He could see it as clear as that glorious image of her and him in the sands of some unknown beach. Her surprise on coming home only to find that one work of Kandinsky or Monet or some other classic she was so fond of, hanging on one of the walls of their apartment.

She’d look at him as if he were crazy, knowing exactly how much that anonymous bidder on the phone would have paid for that picture. Of course she would smile, but she would fight that smile while berating him.

Oh yes. He would spoil her! Excessively!

Thomas nuzzled her hairline, a soft moan startling him.

“Is it morning yet?” a tired, sleep-drunken voice asked and his arms quickly drew her up against his chest.

“No. Just go back to sleep, darling.” he whispered, his fingertips caressing her spine.

“Why are you awake?” she asked, embracing him. Those fingers started to brush through the hairline at the back of his neck. It tickled pleasantly. None of the others had ever done it. Only her.

“Couldn’t sleep.” he said, voice but a low sigh. Those soft digits caressing his fine hairs were lulling him in, sending pleasant shivers up and down his spine.

“It’s not my snoring, right…?” she joked and her heavenly lips pressed a soft kiss on his shoulder. He chuckled.

“Oh well, I might eventually have to buy some earplugs…”

His grin grew when she giggled and snuggled into him, her fingers still busy with his hair. Slowly his eyelids were getting heavy.

“I love this…” she admitted after some moments. He was with her on that. Thomas was feeling wonderfully drowsy and heavy by now, with her resting in his arms.

“Can you keep doing that with your fingers?” he asked, his voice already a low slur.

“Do you like that?” she asked and he heard her tired smile paint over her voice.

“Yes…”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comment and the kudos. I know last chapter did not have too much happening, but I wrote it before I had a little bit of a writer's block and afterwards it would not fit in anywhere, but I wanted it to stay because I thought it imporant to see his point-of-view.  
> Okay Chapter 11 will have smut again. And criminal activity. But before I spoil Chapter 11, let me say;  
> Have a nice day, thanks for the ongoing support and of course please enjoy Chapter 10.
> 
> By the way: The fact that the newly introduced guy is Russian has nothing, NOTHING whatsoever to do with the current political situation. I recently watched some documentations about Russian Drug Cartels AND am re-reading Anna Karenina, so politics are not the reason why I have Russia stuck in my head and out came Lew.

Chapter 10

 

When Thomas hurried down the busy road it had gotten dark. He was a bit late to his personal frustration. This was the first time she would be allowed to function as an auctioneer and she had been a little nervous when they had talked on the phone earlier.

 

“I am so going to screw this. This is 7th grade all over again.” she had whimpered into her phone, sounding terrified, even though she knew the list, the history and the prices to all auctioned items by heart. He had to know! Thomas himself had quizzed her three times. Not because she had messed up, but because he knew it had soothed her for the moment. Additionally, he had enjoyed giving her the reward.

“Darling, I have my doubts about you having to answer which macromolecules are long chains of amino acid molecules!” he told her while going over the hacked bank accounts of three individual bankers of different nationalities, trying to decide if he ought to delete said accounts all together or leave these imbeciles one single buck. On the house!

She laughed, still a bit nervous and he smiled to himself.

“You’ll do wonderfully. And even if you mess this up, who cares? It’s just rehearsal for things to come.” he tried to calm her. This would all be so much easier for her if she could stop thinking that her whole career depended on this. Her dream was to work for Sotheby’s one day, so she was worried about getting favourable references and related jobs. This auction –for a less prestigious house– would be featuring some nice art, but nothing worth over 50,000 £, if she had estimated correctly (and he was certain that she had!). But well, firsts do tend to make people nervous.

His eyes flickered back on his screen.

_One or nothing?_

Damn, this decision was hard! If he deleted the accounts all together, it might be taken for a system error, which would be considered troublesome but not really intimidating…

“But what IF someone from other houses is there to make a nice deal? These things are quick to make the rounds and if I mess with dates or prices I’ll never get another job!”

 _Thomas, your girlfriend is at the other end of the line and is about to have a mental breakdown, adorable, anxious thing that she can be! Get your priorities straight!,_ he chided himself and leaned away from his desk, crossing his long legs so one ankle rested on the opposite thigh.

“Stop doing this to yourself, baby!” he told her in a calm but firm manner.

“Tom…”

“No no, listen! You’ll do great. You worked on this for weeks now and I quizzed you once more last night. To which result?”

“Amazing sex?!” she shot back, her answer making him chuckle. Thomas could hear the small smile that had formed on her lips.

“Apart from that.”

A sigh answered him.

“Listen, you know that list by heart.” he reassured her once more.

“I do…” she admitted and he smiled gently.

“You’ll charm the money right out of their purses, you’ll see. And afterwards you’ll tell me all about it so I get to show off with my not only ravishing but brilliant girl.”

A brief silence.

“Thank you, Thomas… I just wish you could make it.” she admitted and he bit his lip, glancing at his watch. He still had 2 hours.

“Are you crazy? I hear the auctioneer is still green behind her ears. Woman, I have a reputation to loose here!” he teased and she started to laugh. He loved that sound. Dearly. “…I’m sorry about this. I’d like nothing more than to see you being excellent at what you’re doing. Too bad I am surrounded by incompetent interns who would probably set themselves on fire if not watched closely.” he had lied. The moment she had told him about it, Thomas had made sure that his schedule would be clear.

Thomas knew which face she made right now. Her head would be tilted slightly downwards, her eyes closing for a short moment, while she blinked away her disappointment, a wide, slightly bitter smile forming on her beautiful lips, before she would open her eyes and tilt her head up bravely.

“There will always be a next time.” she told him sweetly.

“That’s the spirit, love.”

Someone on her end called her name.

“I’ll only be a moment!” she told them and addressed him again. “I have to go. I want to finish some stuff here before getting changed.”

“Is it good luck or break a leg with you people?” he asked smoothly and she snorted.

“I’ll have that luck-thing.” she told him, sounding wonderfully casual by now. “Sorry about the rambling.”

“Make it up to me with that ominous amazing sex that was mentioned earlier, it sounded rather nice.” She giggled and he grinned. “Stop giggling, I mean it!” he whined and revelled in another fit of giggles. Lovely sound that!

“I love you…”

“I love you, too.”

After Thomas had hung up the phone he had sighed. This whole relationship-thing was much more pleasant than he had given it credit for. Which was a good thing, because he had no intention of ending it any time soon. Five weeks ago, he had first woken up with her naked body pressed up against his. Five weeks ago, he had confessed his love for her. And since then he had been in his longest relationship up to date, enjoying every minute of it.

 _Back to business, you love-sick puppy…_ he thought to himself, focusing back on the computer screen. Feeling generous, Thomas gave instructions to delete the accounts this time and reduce them to 1 dollar, pound and yen one week after they were restored if their owner still saw themselves incapable to cooperate.

 _There, she’s already turning me soft…_ , he had thought mockingly and had grinned to himself.

 

When he walked into the room where the auction would take place, there were only 5 minutes left before they would begin. Which was a shame since he had hoped to be able to see her. Now she would be too busy and his sudden appearance would only excite her more.

“Up until now, the following sentence was on my Top 10 list of Things I never thought I would say.” A gruff, deep voice right next to him said, catching his attention. Marcus, looking both quite dapper in his dark suit and royally pissed off at the same time stood right next to him. “But here we go: You are my favourite person in this room and I am glad you’re here!” he paused and thought for a moment. “That felt so wrong…”

Thomas gave the older man a mocking smirk before they shook hands. Damn, what was Marcus doing here? He could only hope this wasn’t business-related.

“Marcus! Ivy dragged you here, I take it?” he asked politely and scanned the room for the other man’s terribly sweet wife.

“Boy, I wish! Ivy is home with the girls. Michelle has a fever and Ivy didn’t want to leave her alone. So I am stuck with her mother, who chose exactly this weekend to visit.” With that, the bald man took a sip from his drink, nodding towards a woman who seemed to be the incarnation of determination. Even from this angle she reminded the young man of a bloodhound. At least he wasn’t here with some of the partners.

“She seems… eager!” Thomas commented and his associate rolled his eyes.

“The old dragon has her eyes on three works and I feel bad for the poor sod who competes with her.”

Thomas grinned. This ought to be good.

“Is that so?” he asked. “So she knows a little bit about what will grow in worth?” he continued, only slightly raising his voice, but earning a few mustering and interested glances. Perfect! Maybe this would cause them to bid eagerly. It would not only make things a bit more interesting, but it would earn the auction house a good sum.   
These people were all the same. Few of them knew enough about art to judge properly what would be worth their money. Most of them were still quite young, probably being on their first auction. Some of them were accompanied by what seemed to be a consultant, but those who were here with their significant other would look out for people who seemed to know what they were doing. It wouldn’t ruin them or Marcus’ mother in-law to spend a bit more money than what they had originally intended to. No matter how artsy and low-profile some of these men and women in the front row dressed, they all were part of the upper middle-class. Since their lives probably could need a bit more excitement, this was in everyone’s best interest! They would get a little thrill and his girlfriend –Ha! Seriously, this sounded marvellous!– would lead a very prosperous auction.

“Yeah… or at least her consultant does… What are you doing here?” Marcus wondered, interjecting his thoughts and raised a brow suspiciously. The younger man was about to answer when his eyes locked onto the figure of a blond man in his mid-thirties. He sat some rows in front of Marcus’ mother-in-law and was talking to a pretty, but terribly skinny Asian girl.  
“Look…” Thomas growled and Marcus frowned. The younger nodded into the direction of the blond and his companion and the bald man turned.

A brief silence spread between the two men before the older sighed.

“Yeah, I saw him when I came in. Don’t worry… Astakhov senior cut him off some months ago after that disgusting deal with Usoyev or what ever his name was. Anyway, he’s a dog on a leash.”

Not good! Absolutely not good!

Lew Astakhov II might be a dog on a leash, but a leash wasn’t known to be able to heal rabies. This man had been involved with every filthy drug cartel in Eastern Europe, much to his father’s dismay. Because while most members of any self-respecting cartel sold their goods instead of consuming them themselves, good Lew here had buried his freaking sanity under a thick layer of cocaine, MDMA and other drugs some years ago. His father had been left with no other choice than to kick him out and make sure that he would no longer have any access to the inner circles. It probably wasn’t ‘good publicity’ when your own son bought more of that white crap than the cartel’s best dealers. He got thrust out into the world, with enough money to live a comfortable life that probably would not last too long thanks to the poison he willingly consumed.

His life turned out to be long enough to soon bring him into the same room as the woman Thomas loved. To say that it didn’t sit well with the aspiring young man, would be the understatement of the year. No! This wild animal being here was quite the opposite of ‘good’.

“What is he doing in London?” Thomas asked darkly.

Marcus snorted.

“Like I would know! Do I seem like the kind of person to you who would walk up to a mad dog and risk being forced kicking him off the cliffs? Can’t be business though. I bet he’s so caught in that nice mix of Cocaine and Vicodin that he would not even know his own mother, let alone any client.”

Not good enough! Fuck it all!

_Okay, stay calm! He has not seen you yet. That little slut that’s with him is going to spend some of his money and afterwards they’ll leave to pop some pills that might help against the voices in their bloody heads…_

The reassurances of his more logical and optimistic parts of his mind didn’t help. Thomas was worried and he would remain so until that cretin left. He didn’t want her in a room with such trash. What if Astakhov did recognize him? How would he react? Maybe he would just leave. But maybe he would stagger over to them and start talking about the way they had deleted information on members of his father’s cartel before the MI6 could get their hands on them. Or ask him if he was still so good at aiming his gun.

Damned junkies! You never knew what they might say. Everything was possible and right now he wanted nothing more than to lessen the range of those possibilities.

His musings were once again interrupted. This time by a guy, who could not be older than Thomas approached the speaker’s desk at the other part of the room, asking them to take their seats. “Ugh… Great… Later, boy!” Marcus grumbled and walked off.

Thomas sat down next to a man in his 50’s who tabbed his finger against the little paddle in his hand. He was still watching Astakhov, whose head rested on the shoulder of his date now. From where he sat he would not be able to see Thomas.

A door opened to the right-hand side of the room and the young woman he had kissed good bye this morning walked in, a bound leather-portfolio under her arm. She was a picture of sophisticated beauty in that dark-blue, long sleeved dress with a high collar. The sight of her was both soothing and agitating at the same time. He had no idea how she did it without even intending to.

Placing her portfolio on the speaker’s desk, he witnessed her take a steadying breath before she looked up. Her eyes gave it away. She was nervous. And then those orbs settled on him and widened before her face lit up with a sweet smile. Thomas winked at her and leaned back in a relaxed manner, eyes flicking back and forth between his beloved and Astakhov.

Things went wonderfully smooth for her during the whole auction and to him it seemed as if she was enjoying herself. He was so proud of her that he almost forgot about the Russian problem. Thomas knew that she had selected some of the pieces for the auction herself and had done a very thorough research. The young man had also been right about another thing: She did charm them out of their wits.

When the auction was over he saw her being approached by four people, while Astakhov and the woman left. Thomas remained seated so his tall figure would not be detected in the crowd until they had left the room. Relief embraced him like a warm blanket or the gentle arms of the woman he had worried about.

Okay, that was that! Back to the present. He stayed in the back for now, watching her while he dialled one of the restaurants he knew to always be accommodating when it came to his wish to have a nice table. She did so well that he was bursting with pride, considering showing off to Marcus, who was yet oblivious to who she was, which was indeed a bit unfair since he had already proclaimed to like her during Christmas because she could make him stay quiet. Jackass!

The bald man walked over to him, the old lady making her way to the bar, a smug expression on her face. Not only had she gotten the three pieces that she had wanted, but additionally had bought a very nice sculpture that she had quarrelled over with an eccentric-looking woman in her late thirties with flaming red hair.

“I am so glad it’s over. The old hag will at least not be completely insufferable while being in a good mood…” Marcus mumbled, hands in his pockets. “Want a drink? My treat! “

Thomas lifted his forefinger, gesturing for Marcus to wait a moment, while his reservation was confirmed.

“… Yes for two… Lovely!... Thanks.”

When he lifted his eyes to Marcus’ face once more, the older man had arched his right eyebrow and scanned the people who stood close to them.

“You know boy, this is fortunately none of my business, but aren’t these ladies a bit too old for you?” his associate asked dryly, eyeing three ladies who seemed to be alone and all in their early 40s. Thomas snorted.

“While I am not saying that divergent tastes ought to be frowned upon…” he began evenly, making Marcus chuckle. “I have my eyes on another… ah… piece!”

His eyes settled on her again, still shaking hands and handing her portfolio over to a tall, slim man in a suit who smiled at her and patted her on the back.

“Not in a million years!” Marcus said, shifting his weight to turn towards her, measuring her in a once over. It was Thomas’ turn to arch a brow.

“Pray; why exactly not?”

“No offense, kid!” the bald man said. “But this amount of charm and class over there is barely one-nighter material.”

While Thomas loved where this was going, he could not help but agree with Marcus. While he and the older man were constantly at each other’s throats in more or less friendly competition, Marcus had a valuable range of abilities that weren’t unlike his own. His observational skills and his knack to judge a character of almost every person in no time for example were traits Thomas took a lot of pride in possessing them himself. Once more his the man proofed to be very perceptive and went on with his observation.

“Additionally, she seems to be taken… I’d say it’s still very fresh.”

Thomas looked at him in faked doubt.

“Since when are you Sherlock Holmes?”

Just then she started to walk towards them and his heart did a little jump. Damn, she had him hooked pretty badly.

“Observe the way she walks for example. The lucky bastard who will take that sweet butt home tonight is probably back at the bar…” he turned towards the bar, searching for an appropriate match for her.

“Easy, Marcus… You’re a married man!” Thomas said smoothly, that comment over HIS girlfriend’s ‘sweet butt’ not entirely sitting well with him. He tried to it by adding a playful note to his voice, but some kind of very subtle growl still tingled in it.

Marcus frowned.

“Calm down, will you?” he commanded and shook his head. “And where is your mysterious room-mate tonight? I still hope to finally meet her one day and tell her to run as long as she still can.”

The younger man chuckled. Marcus wasn’t that nosey –or rather openly nosey– on a daily basis. He must’ve had a terrible night with his mother in-law!

Thomas still eyed her as she made her way through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting people once in a while.

“Hollister is still in a coma?” he asked suddenly and the other man nodded, not really caring about the change of subject.

“Taking a good, long nap… But they say he’ll be fine eventually.”

“I seriously wish him all the best!” Thomas said. Of course this was bollocks. They were just having an ‘out of office’ kind of conversation. Both men knew this actually meant ‘That bloody bastard should have done all of us a favour and simply bite the dust!’.

“That man did do a lot for you and your career…” Marcus said vaguely, meaning something along the lines of ‘He certainly cost you a lot of nerves…’

While Ben knew what exactly had caused the extend of this particular costing of nerves, the man beside Thomas had no idea whatsoever. He had been insistent about this. Ben had met her. Ben had been zealous about her. Her amount of backbone had delighted him in particular. Thomas had deemed it save to tell ben what made him restless and his mentor had been rather sympathetic, offering his help. One day he would pay dearly for that favour, but her safety was worth it.

Finally she was close, and looked at him shyly. Her body-language indicated that she would not interrupt if the conversation he had with Marcus was important. He allowed his eyes to travel over her body and winked at her, a proud spark in his eye.

Marcus registered his stare and turned around when Thomas’ face broke into a warm, genuine and over-joyed smile. He was positively beaming, which almost made his associate take a step back.

The younger man extended his arm and she stepped into his embrace.

“You were exceptionally brilliant!” he murmured and kissed her hair. “Told you so.”

“I’m still glad it’s over… I thought my knees would give in.” she admitted before he lowered his head to quickly peck her on the lips. Her shorter frame rose up slightly when she stood on her toes, meeting his lips willingly. That chaste contact of skin alone had him delirious with joy.

With a ‘clack’ of her heels hitting the wooden floor she turned towards Marcus and cleared her throat.

“Dearest, may I introduce you to Marcus Stark, my associate and wannabe father-figure.” he informed her and settled his hand on the small of her back, introducing her to Marcus in return. The older man smiled pleasantly.

“So you are the lovely room-mate! I would love to say that I heard an awful lot about you, but Ben and Thomas here have made quite sure that you remained quite a mystery.” was what Marcus’ told her as they shook hands. She grinned.

“Oh well, in that case I am glad they told you the things that shaped me out to seem like the ‘lovely’ room-mate instead of an ‘obnoxious freeloader’.”

Both men chuckled and Thomas drew her a bit closer, arm draped over her shoulders.

 

 

 

Not long after having been introduced to Mr Stark, the two of you stepped out into the cool and busy street. Being the gentleman he had always been towards you, Thomas offered you his arm, which you took gladly, leaning your head against his shoulder for a second before walking like a normal person again. A gloved, large hand closed over the one that held onto his arm and you glanced up at him.

If possible, he looked even more elegant tonight, his hair sleeked back, cheekbones seemingly sharp enough to cut glass. His eyes were simply–

“Something the matter?” he asked, but you shook your head quickly.

“It’s nothing.”

Thomas nudged you with his shoulder.

“You were checking me out.” he teased and you bit your lower lip.

“Don’t be so full of yourself.” you told him when the two of you approached the car. “My boyfriend would not appreciate such nonsense!” you informed him and stuck out your tongue at him just when you approached his car. He chuckled darkly before pushing you against the side of the car, his hands settling on the metal to your left and right side, trapping you.

“Is that so?” he asked and leaned into you, his looming figure shielding you from sight. The tall man took another step forward and you could feel his heat pressing in on you. The sensation of being cornered sent a warm shiver through you. Your heart began beating faster when his hand reached out and four of his fingers cupped the side of your neck. The thumb roamed over your chin, your jaw and back under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I asked a question.”

His voice was black. Black silk, soft and yet sounding like a growl. You felt a tingling heat rise from your core, your arousal growing with every passing moment. He seemed in a playful mood tonight and you saw no reason not to humour him.

“And I didn’t answer.” you purred and his thumb flicked away from your chin to allow his hand to close around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, only applied some cautious pressure on both sides of your neck, causing you to sigh. Not just because he forced some air out of your lungs, but because you could feel your lower lips start to swell in arousal.

“Naughty…” he chided and pushed you against the side of the car so you were leaning on the firm glass.

“What are you going to do about it?” you cooed and quirked a brow at him.

His lips were cool and hungry when they crashed into yours. That strong hand gripped your throat a bit tighter and you moaned into the kiss, allowing his tongue access. Letting go of you, he embraced you instead. Your hands took hold of his face, caressing his neatly shaved skin. Gently his tongue stroked over yours, willing it to succumb to his deep but unhurried pace.

You loved it when he kissed you like this.

It was passionate, yet lacked the brutish sloppiness of impatience. While these kisses were loving, they still had you on edge. And they always seemed to hold back. As if he waited for the right moment to let himself go. His kisses were so much like him…

He drew back, smiling.

Rising up onto your toes, you placed three small and sweet kisses on his cheek.

“I could do this all night…” you admitted, resting your head on his chest so his chin could rest on the top of your head.

“Teasing me?” he asked, brushing over your hair by slowly moving his head.

“Among other things.” You admitted while giggling, which caused him to chuckle. It sent nice vibrations though his chest and you cuddled into him a bit more. “That was the best surprise, Thomas. Thank you so much for coming tonight. It– It really meant a lot to me.”

Another kiss was placed on the top of your head and the two of you remained silent, savouring the feeling of being close to each other. Too soon, he shifted you in his arms slightly and gazed into your eyes lovingly.

“I hate to be that guy, but I made reservations. We should celebrate your first auction.” he told you, his voice frisky and you grinned.

“Sounds wonderful.”

The two of you kissed once more before he opened the door to his newest car (A gorgeous silver 2011 Jaguar XJ that had just hit the market) and bowed, offering his hand with a ‘Miss Daisy!’. Seriously! What a dork he was.

“Thank you, Hoke!” you said in your far-from-perfect impersonation of Daisy Werthan.

He was about to say something whilst you sat down and adjusted your safety belt when a voice erased his smile and replaced it with a cold, neutral expression.

“Velsh!” the deep voice with a heavy accent called again. Thomas did not turn at first, but looked down at you, his features pale and serious.

“Stay in the car.” he ordered, in a strict but not unfriendly voice and you nodded, feeling a bit nervous.

 

 

Something inside of him froze and his shoulders felt heavy and stiff all of a sudden. Damn, he had just gotten rid of pesky Hollister! He didn’t need some fucking junky to know about her. Without moving away from the car he turned, shielding her from view. The blond, long hair of the slim Russian man appeared to be rather scraggy now.

For all it mattered: That guy in front of Thomas had been a picture of calculating serenity once. Charming in his own, sometimes a bit rough way. The life of the party when he wanted to be. And now… a staggering, well-dressed, walking, talking corpse. The rings under his grey eyes and his missing coat told Thomas two things:

Lew was high. And he had been so for quite a while!

The young man didn’t care what this guy had consumed. People who lost themselves to these chemical drugs were unpredictable at all times, so all that mattered to Thomas was to get rid of him.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice neutral.

The other extended his arms, a goofy smile on his lips.

“I saw you and thought it impolite not to say hello.” said Lew, his voice clear, though a bit high-pitched. Thomas was glad he could not see the man’s eyes in the dark. Their expression would have scared him, he wagered. He’d probably worry sick about the woman who sat behind him in the car.

“You just did that, so good day!”

_Leave! Just turn around, find that friend of yours and leave!_

“Ah, you’re not glad to see me!” the other said, his accent thick. “But vell I can see why!” his voice was becoming amused now and he pointed a finger at Thomas, whose muscles clenched uncomfortably when Astakhov tilted his upper body to the side to peek into the windows of the car. “Hello!” he said and waved enthusiastically.

The passenger’s door was slammed shut loudly by Thomas, a protective hand fanning over the handle. The young man's jaw clenched as he glared at the blond russian.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love. Murder and... Christopher Walken!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this chapter was a handful... and it is LONG! Thank you so much for all those lovely comments, every single one truly encouraged me to finish this story. I still have like 2 chapters for a 'sequel' but I think I'll give myself some time until I finish them. I might re-write parts of Balloon over at my tumblr (contains-cinnamon.tumblr.com) and see how I like it, because I had some ideas which could make this story better and illustrate Thomas' development a bit harsher. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this story. Thank you for every single kudo and those sweet, say-making comments.

Chapter 11

 

It wasn’t the most unpleasant place he had ever been to. A long shot off the stinking and drenched mattresses on cold stone floors in empty buildings one would normally associate with drug abuse. There were no scattered, empty vessels that had been human beings before they had first handed control over to an injection or some white powder.

The abandoned factory in the city’s southern area had been furnished up real nicely, considering the things that were going on here. Maybe he should rather lean towards saying ‘had been going on here’. It was 4 in the morning and everything was calm. On his way into the room he knew Lew to be in, he had passed a naked and sleeping couple, the man snoring loudly, while the skinny girl with blonde hair had seemingly passed out right after their tumble. He had registered the gun that had been placed on a table. Thomas had taken it into his gloved hand. Now he would not even have to use his own gun. It was wonderful when coincidence played along.

What was about to happen –what he was about to do– did not stir any kind of emotion inside of him. He wasn’t even worried that he might get caught. Electricity had been cut off, rendering the few security cameras useless. He wore new shoes that were a bit too big for him, medical gloves, a real-hair wig and a long, black scarf, which hid half of his face. Not that he would allow anyone to see him and at the same time survive the night. But he still wanted to make sure that no trace, not even a single hair of his might be found by the police. Junkies died every day, no matter whether they were rich or poor. There might be some sort of fuss over the girl though…

All in all, it was a good plan. Clean. Swift. Easy. It would lack some elegance. Given the circumstances however, it was a sacrifice that he was willing to make. Life could be crude. Why shouldn’t death be as well?

The real quality of the building and its apparent renovations showed itself when it came to the doors. Not a single creak was heard when he opened the door to the room that he had been watching from the other side of the street for about 2 hours now.

Blasted Russian scum! If only he had kept his mouth shut. If only he had not possessed the audacity to challenge Thomas. He could be in bed now! He could have had a nice dinner, followed by a long and hot bath and slow, sensual seduction.

 

 

The door shut loudly and made you jerk back slightly.

“Thomas what…” you exclaimed out of reflex and caught yourself when you saw the expression that was burned into his profile. The bright, relaxed and slightly playful mood was all gone, snuffed out like the warm flame of a candle, leaving nothing but cold, dark fury. Whoever the man outside of the car had been, he had not been a friend and this had not been a pleasant conversation either. “What happened?” you asked after allowing silence and his deep breaths to hopefully calm him down.

Indeed, he inhaled deeply, hand clutching the stirring wheel until the skin over his knuckles tightened and turned white. The veins on the back of his hand became more prominent, shining through the pale skin, muscles tense. You searched his eye, but he did not look at you when he spoke, instead closing his eyes as if to remain in control, jaw moving in this peculiar way, baring his teeth.

“Just a fucking junkie.” Thomas mumbled.

“I heard him call your name… how do you know him?”

His eyes snapped open and his brows creased in anger.

“I met him during an internship some years ago. I don’t even remember his name, we did not run into each other often.” he said, his voice clipped and you tilted your head. “He was at the auction and must’ve seen me.”

Thomas fingers brushed through his sleeked back, dark hair and he sighed.

“Sorry, darling! He has a way of getting to me…” he explained, leaning his head back. His eyes opened and he stared at the roof of the car as if concentrating on something he saw in the back of his mind. There weren’t a lot of people who were able to unsettle him, so the other guy must have a very special talent! Sympathetically you reached out and covered his hard knuckles with your hand, thumb running over the prominent veins soothingly.

“It’s okay.” you assured him and smiled faintly as his eye settled on you without his head turning your way.

“Would you mind if we ordered take-outs in advance? I am not in the mood for crowded restaurants and more possible run-ins with people I’d rather not see.”

“That sounds nice. I’m more in couch-mood anyway.”

He huffed and a deliberate grin thawed on those fine lips.

“Sorry for being a morose and moody dick.” he said.

You gasped with fake disapproval.

“Language, Mr Welsh or you won’t get dessert.” you joked and he finally turned his face towards you. And there it was again. The warmth in his eyes.

Everything was fine again. Soon he would have forgotten about that weird man and you’d enjoy the evening together. You called the restaurant and asked them to prepare some food to take it with you if possible and after picking it up, you went straight home.

“I’m glad actually…” you admitted as you stood next to him in the lift. His reflection searched your eyes in the mirrored doors of the cube.

“And why is that?” he wondered and you smiled at him, tired from the stress and the constant tenseness of your nerves. Moving a bit closer, you leaned your head against his shoulder and a soft, relaxed smile warmed your cheeks when you closed your eyes, concentrating on the pleasant smell of his fading cologne and his natural scent.

“I just feel quite tired, is all. It’ll be nice to cuddle up without feeling guilty about it after 5 minutes.” you explained. When he didn’t answer, you opened your eyes to look at him calmly. He was lost in deep thought, eyes fixed on the right, upper corner of the lift, frowning. For a moment you watched him like this in the mirror. “Is it that guy from earlier?” you asked and wrapped your arms around his upper arm.

His back straightened slightly, the muscles of his arm stretching.

“Want to talk about it?” you asked and turned towards him, freeing him from your grip. When the lift arrived at your floor and came to a halt, he gazed straight into your eyes. His expression was unreadable. Behind his eyes something was raging, while his demeanour seemed calm and collected. There even was the hint of a smile that was playing hide and seek in the corners of his mouth. “I-It’s fine if you don’t! Just… you know? If it bothers you, then…”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he interrupted, his voice silky.

You blushed and fought down an embarrassed smile.

“Oh well…I try.”

He places an arm around you and pulls you in to catch your lips in a gentle kiss. His lips are eager tonight as they move against your own, his tongue flicking against yours when he deepened the kiss. A large hand places itself on your shoulder and moves you out of the lift. For this he had broken the kiss and grinned down at you once more.

Your heart had started beating faster, the strong thuds making your veins vibrate with anticipation when he led you into the apartment and closed the door behind him with a kick of his foot. When he moved in to kiss you again you tilted your head back and rose onto your toes to meet him halfway. His hands placed themselves on the small of your back and the curve of your hip while your free hand held onto his shoulder. The gentleness of the kiss soon dissolved as it claimed your senses, caressed and loved them, before turning into deep kisses that tasted of lust and desire. Thomas pushed you into his chest, your breasts pressing up against is firm body, making him moan in the back of his throat.

His tongue was warm and soft when it brushed against yours, his hand leaving your hip to slide over your arm, down to the hand that held the bag with the food. His fingers cautiously pried yours away from the paper and quickly placed it on a nearby table.

Those thin, sensuous lips left yours to trace your face.

“Not hungry then?” you asked breathlessly and leaned your head back when he started to kiss a trail down the soft skin of your neck until he began to nibble at the hollow of your neck, making you shudder and sigh in pleasure.

“I’m hungry for something else first…” he growled and bit down, making you shriek and writhe against him just when his tongue licked over the bite-marks. “Can I eat you?” he asked and once more you felt his teeth run over the skin where your neck and shoulder met. It felt like a weird question but at the same time a hot, searing sensation went all the way down to your centre. The pulsing between your legs became stronger, causing you to move your hips against him. Instantly, his hand grabbed your ass and squeezed the soft flesh, teeth running over your neck. You gasped, waiting and lusting for the sweet, hot and stinging sensation. Instead of sinking his teeth into your skin, his tongue flicked over it once more. “Please… let me eat you darling…”

A long moan echoed through the room just when he pushed your coat off your shoulders.

“Yes… Yes, eat me…” you breathed.

His mouth opened a bit further, his teeth sliding over the sensitive skin before biting down, his tongue flicking over the flesh between his teeth before sucking it into his mouth and murmured softly. These moments weren’t rare, but it had been a while since he had felt truly at ease and relaxed. Thomas was attentive as always of course, but stress had gotten to him too those past few days. While he hadn’t said anything, you had known anyway. Those slightly quicker and more precise movements, unnerved sighs and one long silence after the other had been indicators for his thoughts being far, far away. Even in those moments when it had been all about you, his back had been unnaturally straight, shoulders a trace too stiff and unmoving. And tonight, when you had hoped for a more relaxed atmosphere you had to run into some looser who had ended up as some pale drug addict with sunken in eyes. Absentmindedly you began to run your hands over his shoulders and his back, kneading and caressing the tall man who held you close against him. You wanted him to unwind, forget that idiot. And work. And all those tasks Marlowe had handed to him… You had not been easy to deal with either. Tonight he truly deserved a bit more attention.

A soft, tickling laugh lightened the apartment when he swept you up into his arms.

“Where would you rather be devoured?” he whispered in your ear, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What are my options?” you countered earning a chuckle and a lingering kiss on your temple.

“Well… house rules say no eating in bed, obviously.” He stated in all seriousness and began to walk. Biting back a grin, you nodded, sporting as much as a solemn face as he. “…and we do have dinner on the couch ever so often. I think we ought to make tonight special, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded your head yet again with pursed lips.

“Absolutely!” you told him as if any other idea would be ludicrous. Thomas grinned at you and you leaned forward to kiss him, caressing his face with one hand while the other played with the hair on the back of his neck. He came to a sudden halt and for some time he just stood there while your lips kept searching and finding each other. When you finally drew back, his eyes were dark with that sparkle that made your heart stop.

“We do not use the dining table too often. I think tonight’s occasion justifies such extravagance, no?”

You lift a brow at him as he places you on the edge of the large, heavy table.

“That is indeed extravagant… and all because you get to eat me?” you wondered and his smile turned into a full-blown smirk when he placed both hands on either side of you, leaning in slowly. Turning your head so your nose brushed against the skin of his face, you breathed in his rich cologne. His thin lips nipped at your earlobe while he purred when you began to run your fingers through those slicked back dark curls.

“You obviously have no idea how good you taste…” he breathed just before his lips pressed against your neck. Smiling, you nuzzled his face and pressed quick, small butterfly kisses on every part of his face and neck you could reach.

And then… his phone began to vibrate in the pocket of his trousers. He groaned and you giggled.

“Is that a phone in your pocket or do I really taste that good?” you joked and he snorted while leaning back. He sighed when he looked at the screen.

“It’s Ben… I got to…”

“Get going.” You said and pressed another kiss on his lips. “We’ve got all night.”

“I’ll be in the office.” Thomas announced with a final kiss on your forehead and a playful wink he turned away.

 

 

 

“Can you talk?!” Marlowe’s voice greeted without any space for delay or offense just when Thomas closed the door to the mid-sized room that functioned as his home office.

“What happened?” he replied in a slightly clipped voice. By now he knew Benjamin’s intonations and this one held the promise of trouble.

“Lew Astakhov senior just called.”

Thomas scoffed.

“Oh good, at least I am not the only person who gets his evening ruined by one of that blasted clan.” His voice was a bored drawl, something that Marlowe did not approve of at all.

“That uncultured bastard of his plans to sell us all out to MI6 if daddy does not allow him back into family business.” He snapped. “Not so boring now, I take it?!”

The younger man frowned.

“What do we have to do with their family problems?”

“He cannot touch his father directly. But the moments our asses go down, this thing will become political too. Payrolls tend not to remain too secret as soon as freaking some James Bond decides to investigate. Astakhov has an appointment in… 19 hours.”

“Hang on…” Marcus’ voice said. “You cannot just walk up to some guy from MI6, mention some names and they will go for some witch-hunt. What does he have to validate his claims?”

“I propose we ask him that ourselves. Tonight he cannot do much. That drug addicted ass of his is half-way to heaven by now. We’ll send men first thing in the morning to pick him up before MI6 can.”

But at some point of Ben’s plan Thomas mind had started working into another direction. That swine would sell them out. They would be seriously fucked. He’d loose everything. He’d loose her…

No.

The next couple of minutes, things were a bit of a blur, his mind putting together pieces before tearing them apart once more. Astokhov would end. Tonight.

After he had hung up on Benjamin and Marcus he had walked towards her, with only one intend. She was his and no one would take her away from him. He was happy with her and she was happy with him and he would not allow some Russian loser with daddy and drug issues ruin it for him. Her smile had been warm, but soon turned into a worried expression when her eyes began to race over his face.

“Thomas…” she had said, rising from the table where she had begun to eat some of the delicious food they had picked up. Thomas wasn’t hungry. The space where his stomach was felt weirdly empty and heavy. He did not need food. All he needed was her. When his lips devoured hers in the most possessive kiss he had ever dared to press onto her, it felt like he was able to breathe for the first time.

With his senses so suddenly on high alert, her skin felt so much softer when he was on top of her on the large bed minutes later. Her moans louder and more intoxicating than ever, her taste and smell nearly drowning him. Again and again he took her, until she was limb in his arms, even her smile exhausted. Thomas however had finally regained his clarity of mind.

For a moment he considered giving her sleeping pills to assure that she would not wake up while he was gone tonight. Then he took her in. Those heavy, sated eyes. The loving and trusting smile. And those soft, ever so soft lips whispering again and again that she loved him. He couldn’t! He wouldn’t!

Placing tender and innocent kisses on her face he answered her declarations until she fell asleep. Astakhov would get no chance to tell anyone anything. For once he would not listen to Benjamin. The older man’s arguments were futile. Even if the drug addict had no proof, no way at all to get MI6 to listen, he was willing to! This guy was a wild dog. And he would put him down tonight.

 

 

 

Rich people were idiots. No wait, that was wrong and far too generalised. People who never had to move a single finger for their money usually were idiots! They lived there, in those palaces and fancy apartments, fed by a golden spoon from the day they were born. Of course there were those who had their wits about them. But the Lews of the world were… Just like Hollister. Thinking that none of their actions would have consequences. That people were their toys.

Thomas grinned. How wrong they were. They were indeed _his_ toys.

He closed the door at the end of the hall and gazed into the semi dark room.

Astakhov was spread on the bed, wearing expensive, but stained jeans. Fast asleep. Judging from the smell in the room as well as the half empty plates with food, him and the girl had smoked some weed before turning in for the night. The only light source in the room was coming from a MacBook that rested on the floor. It was playing some kind of calm, but weird tune. His cold eyes settled on the nightstand next to the bed. Judging from the white powder remnants they might have mixed the cannabis with some mandrax. Which meant they were totally knocked out. Two syringes also rested on the nightstand. The shit some people did to their bodies…

The girl he found next to the man, only wearing her panties and a silken tank top. For just a second he was about to consider the possibility of feeling bad about her fate. The reason that he decided not to allow any kind of guilt to quell inside his heart had nothing whatsoever to do with Astakhov, himself or the circumstances that had forced him to take action. This woman here was collateral damage. It was as simple as that.

Additionally, it was clear to him that she had been doing this for a while. Sleeping around for the short-lived artificial thrill. One chemical cocktail that ruined her brain after the other. It wasn’t some weed once in a while. This was about the sort of stuff that really messed you up. There were reasons he never tried anything like it. His brain was his source of income and he would not taint it.

His eyes flicked over her form quickly. She must’ve been gorgeous once. Now however her bones were far too prominent, her breasts no longer full, the skin colour a weird tone he did not enjoy looking at. Her eyes sunken in, the thick layer of smudged make-up unable to hide the dark rings under her eyes. Even without him, she was as good as dead. Thomas was just so much quicker to come to this conclusion.

Turning away from her, he walked towards the nightstand, not even glancing over at Astakhov. The wood of the small table was dark and probably not very expensive. IKEA maybe. He wouldn’t know. He rather liked custom-made furniture or at least things not every single person owned. This one had a nice touch though, he’d give it that much!

Reaching out for the syringe, he walked towards the open window and pushed the plunger down, the last few drops of clear liquid splattering into the sober and cold night sky just when the song ended. A rush of raindrops and a low rumble of thunder replaced it and he frowned, pausing in his movements. Then suddenly a male voice was heard and Thomas listened for a long moment of appreciation while Christopher Walken read the well-known poem quite beautifully.

 

_Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,_  
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—  
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

_"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—  
            Only this –_

 

“…and nothing more!” Thomas muttered himself and kept listening to this version. A guitar and the sound of wind disturbed the impact of the poem more than they assisted it. For once the actor’s voice was bare of any comedic element, the seriousness of the work’s theme kept clear and dark as the feathers of its eponym.

His steps towards the bed were unheard because of the dark carpet on the floor. This would be over soon enough.

Without any sort of scruple or doubt, he pulled back the plunge, filling the barrel with air before positioning it in the girl’s right hand once, her fingers squeezing the plunge down the slightest bit as if she was giving someone an injection. Better her fingerprints than none. That would have been conspicuous as soon as investigations had started. People who blew themselves sky-high didn’t care to hide their fingerprints.

Freeing the object from her grip once more after making sure they would find her prints all over the thing later, he took hold of the small object, refilled it with air and stood. His steps were quick, but not because Thomas felt the need to hurry. It had been a long day. He felt tired. What a pain…

This had not been his wish. There simply was no other way. People would never learn. Again and again they had tried to stand up to him and his associates, causing damage to those around them and to themselves. Was it his fault he knew how to play this game and how to deal with audacious cretins who tried to interfere? Of course it wasn’t.

Lew Astakhov had been granted one opportunity after the next to stay out of their way and finally he had over-stepped the boarder. He no longer cared if the little idiot had any proof or if it was just some kind of hoax. Lew was dangerous. He had to be dealt with.

Truth was: That gorgeous woman who slept in a large bed on the other end of the city, whom he had left warm and safe and cosy, did not make him grow soft at all. If anything she made him even more focused. That intense stare of his could not afford to let down its guard when it came to her safety… and to her ignorance. She could never know.

She never would!

And this was why that deranged waste of space on the bed would not be granted any more chances to be a good boy and stay out of Thomas’ business.

 

_Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer  
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor…_

 

He’d have to be quick about it. Air embolism would harm you severely, but not kill you instantly if the air was injected into your arm, unless you were keen on repeating the process 3 to 6 times. The guy might be drugged, but Thomas was sure he would not be able to work slowly without the other man waking up. He could not have that. Sadly, he could not just inject air into his heart, since the little bitch did not exactly look like someone who could pull that off. Even the densest investigator would be able to see that. The artery of his neck was another thing though!

 

_`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -  
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!_

 

Gently the needle sank into Astakhov’s white skin, piercing the membrane, soon invading the thick, prominent vein while Walken went for the grand finale. He pushed down. The body on the bed gave a small jerk some moments later, the injected air applying a deadly pressure on the other man’s heart, before it went still. For good measure he pulled the needle out, filled it with air and repeated the ordeal once, twice. A glance up to the face made him tilt his head. The lucky bastard had not even woken up. What a peaceful death! Much better than a frightful over-dose that had probably awaited him in any other case.

Thomas walked back towards the girl putting the small object next to her body, before he walked over to the door and locked it. Shit, he could not just hold the gun against her temple and pull the trigger. How troublesome!

With a swift motion he positioned her against the headboard, making her groan. She did not wake up, her head rolling back instead, mouth slightly open. Placing the gun into her hand, covering it with his own hand, Thomas pushed the barrel between her lips.

 

_And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
Shall be lifted - nevermore!_

 

 

 

 

It was around 5 when he was back in the apartment. But he wasn’t tired. His senses were alight with euphoria, adrenaline and… pride. Once more he had taken care of business swift and quick. No one threatened him. No one tried to blackmail him. He had yet to meet someone who was stupid enough to do so and survive the whole ordeal.

She was still asleep, the sleeping pills would not have been needed, nor had the quickly scribbled note since it still rest where he had left it. Taking the watch beside her side of the bed, he re-set the clock to two hours prior. He grabbed it and took it with him into the bathroom, where he poured water over it to make the writing unreadable before tearing it apart and throwing the pieces into the toilet.

Thomas took a quick shower, not wanting any particle of the night’s events that might cling to his skin on her. A shudder ran up and down his spine, making him shiver even though the water was hot.

He had considered drugging her… To make sure that…

Shit…

From now on he would have others to take care of people like Astakhov. The times when he could just leave his home in the middle of the night with no one asking questions were over now. He loved the fact that they were over! It had been years since anyone had been around long enough to notice when he stayed at work a bit longer or when he had had a lousy day…

It was lovely.

But on the other hand…

Now he was being unfair. It wasn’t her fault. He was the problem. Of course he was aware of that. Right now he was not able to change anything about it, but the day would come. And until then it was worth the effort of keeping her in the dark.

Just… the thought of mixing sleeping pills into her food…

He’d never think about it again. For a moment he wondered if he had decided against doing it because she was too dear to him to abuse her trust like that or if it was simply out of the hidden wish to be caught. Thomas wanted her to stay with him without constantly worrying over any accidental gossip or careless comments made by people around him.

What was he thinking… He was tired. Though on second thought, maybe that was not the correct term. Because he did not feel like sleeping. Yes, he was exhausted, how could he not? But right now the energy that was rushing through his system with every beat of his strong pulse filled him with yet another need than to rest.

A few minutes later he walked back into the bedroom and stood in the door to allow his eyes to linger on her sleeping and relaxed body before turning off the light, bathing both of them in complete darkness. It cooled his thoughts, but not his need.

Every part of his life that did not immediately revolve around her was rough and coarse. It had caused him to become distant, even when it had come to his parents. At some point, just after he had started working with Ben he had become so severe and mindless when it came to what old acquaintances had thought of him that his father refused to allow him entrance to his families’ house. For the longest time he had not cared.

Now his fingers traced the soft skin of her shoulder while he stood next to the bed. Ever since she had danced back into his life, she had covered that coarseness up with the same silky intimacy he felt right now. Thomas kneeled down beside the bed, his knees pushing into the soft carpet. He hungered for her. Every moment he spent away from her had him face the insufferable rough ugliness of the life he had thought of so highly once. It had not only been those 5 weeks their romantic involvement last now.

His lips kissed her warm shoulder lightly, a sudden wave of heat gushed from his heart flooding his veins and made him dizzy with yearning. He wanted her in his arms. Longed for her lips on his, her gentle hands cupping his face in them while he pulled her so close that her soft breasts were squeezed against his chest. That sensation when she was up this close, filling him with her warmth and sweetness and pristine emotions had been everything his life had lacked before her. His ears would be filled with her sweet sighs, whispered words of love and affection like a balm on his guilt-laden conscious.

His thin lips nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck before he nuzzled his way up to her hairline, burying his face in the intensity of her scent.

Guilt… what a weak word it was. Wasn’t it all worth it? Had he not walked down this path he would not have met her again. He would not have been sitting in that café, would not have been able to buy this apartment for her –a tiny detail he had yet to mention to her– and he would not have been able to introduce her wonderful work to Ben, who in turn had spoken in her favour on some of societies more respected events. What was guilt when it had brought her back? And was some spoilt, deranged, now dead junkie really worth the fuss? Was the girl worth the fuss?

No… the only thing that mattered was this here. This warmth. The sweetness of the slow breath that ran over his face now that he leaned in. Those soft lips that became cushions for his own as he hungrily pressed into them.

He’d kill again and again to keep this alive. To have her for himself. There was no turning back now. The inexpressible need to keep her close meant that he had to become even more powerful. It meant to become a hushed whisper, an angst-inducing chill which took hold of every person who crossed his path, no matter if friend or foe. They would step over each other to gain his favour, to be granted a single smile. But all of those would be reserved for her. She would be the only one he would be tame with. He’d be her saint. Because he was inevitably hers. And he saw no reason to be anything else ever again.

Her lips opened and he pushed himself up on the bed to burry her beneath his body, pressing her further into the warmth of the mattress. Those welcoming arms settled around his shoulders weakly and he paced himself in his frantic desire.

Thomas lifted his head, lips a tortuous quarter of an inch apart. And that hunger for her raged inside of him, begging him to just take her, to make her his, again and again. But he was a controlled man. Not a victim of his desire or his feelings.

Her lovely fingers brushed through his wet hair and the tip of her nose nudged against his lovingly and a dense pressure erased that former ridiculous thought about being the one in control here. Long ago he should have accepted that she was the one with the power. It only urged him on to prove himself worthy and just as mighty as her breath taking tenderness.

“’sup pretty boy?” she asked, her voice still wrapped in sleep’s drowsiness. “What time is it?” she turned her head towards the nightstand, where the watch claimed it to be 3:52 AM.

Instead of speaking, his mouth claimed hers hungrily and tore away the blanket, which separated him from her. He couldn’t wait. He no longer wanted to lie. All he wanted right now was her.

One of his hands traced the silky skin of her body, before his lips left hers and kissed, nipped and licked a delicious trace down to her breast, hungrily sucking in the hardening nipple. She whimpered, almost driving him mad.

“T-Thomas… Ah!”

His hand began to caress her mound, not making any contact with her clit or the slit of her swelling cunt just yet. The short nails of his fingers only teased the skin right over her sex, making her writhe beneath him. Oh how he loved to play with her. This was a small taste of what he had felt every time he had dreamt of her in those long, lonely months before he had finally been able to take her as his.

He pressed his throbbing erection against her thigh, revelling in any kind of contact and she moaned between her gasps.

Easy… Easy now…

Again his lips met hers in a more gentle, less uncontrolled kiss while his fingers travelled over her soft lower lips.

“May I?” he asked huskily and ran the tip of his middle-finger over her slit up to her clitoris, making her hips jerk into his touch.

“Yes…” she purred and leaned up to kiss him deeply.

When his finger circled the bundle of nerves she keened against his mouth, causing him to deepen the kiss even more while moaning in utter bliss.

He concentrated on the way she felt like against his fingers. How her skin became moist and hotter with every flick of his digit. How her forehead gently nudged his cheek gently, wanting more contact. When her hands travelled down his own body to run her slightly longer nails over the small of his back, a pleasurable shudder prickling just beneath his skin, he began to tease her searing entrance. A pleasured gasp left his lips when her nails clawed at his skin, but he didn’t allow his finger to sink into her.

One large hand settled on her shoulder and pushed her down, while he was leering at her in the dark. His knee pushed her legs further apart so he could settle in between them. While he could not see her properly, he knew that she was biting her lower lip right now. That beautiful body started to twitch with every new nudge of his finger and she shuddered in pleasure.

“Do you want it?” he asked, rolling his hips forward, the head of his member pressed against the welcoming, hot flesh of her swollen cunt. It was heaven! The urge to slam into this alluring wetness proved to be insufferable. Yet he resisted. He couldn’t give in.

“Oh Thomas, please…” she whimpered and moved her hips up for more contact.

“Tell me why you want my cock!” he commanded, moving his member away from her, even though his whole body objected. By now even his breathing begged for her and his skin screamed in agony when the only contact he allowed himself and her was his large hand on her fragile shoulder.

“Wh… Why?” she asked, her voice strained and high-pitched.

While he knew she could not see him grin, he was aware that she would see the outline of him when he simply nodded.

“I want to know why it is my cock you want inside of you… Why I of all people will get to fill that tight little cunt eventually…”

Something new burnt inside of him. It made him delirious with lust and… the intoxicating sense of control. He did not feel any inclination to refuse himself such pleasure and grew impossibly harder when he sensed her fight to keep her own need in check.

And then she surprised him once more, proving to him that she would always be able to keep him hungry for her.

“Y-You want to know why?” her tone was husky and seductive with a certain note of playfulness. “You want to know how no cock ever felt as good as yours? How I love it when you stretch my pussy and fuck me so hard that I forget my own name? Or would you rather hear about how I sometimes am completely drenched just from thinking about your dick? What exactly would you prefer, hm?” Oh good God. The little vixen just turned the tables on him…

The tip of his tongue grazed the skin on her throat, all the way up to her jaw. Slowly. As if his body was not on edge, all muscles clenched to keep himself from taking her. Her frame quivered beneath him and her fingers tried to push him down.

“How about you tell me all about it? We have all the time in the world, no?” he teased, a slight rumble in his voice betraying his own crumbling resolve. Thomas was rewarded with a soft whimper, which marked her defeat.

It consumed him. It ringed in his ears, sweeter than any melody. It rushed through his veins, straight to his hard member.

“Thomas, I need it… I need you so bad…”

He kissed the shell of her ear, listening intently to those desperate gasps, her breath coming in a succession of shallow little pants.

“Say ‘please’ like a good girl…” he murmured into her ear, his lips brushing over her skin with every word. Oh how incredible she smelled. Inhaling her natural fragrance that held a tinge of her arousal, his eyes closed tightly.

Wait… not yet… She has to say it…

Her voice wasn’t more than a hushed, breathless and yet desperate sound when he felt her head being turned towards him.

“Please…”

The muscles of his body were freed of their mental bounds and with one quick thrust he buried himself deep inside of her tight, hot pussy. She screamed, not in pain but in utter fulfilment hen he began to pound in and out of her in a relentless rhythm that allowed neither him nor her the opportunity to catch their breath.

Grunts and low moans were all that left his mouth, but he paid them not attention. All sound that filled his ears were her loud moans, praise and declarations of love and lust and above all her complete and utter disregard for the world that could be heard in every loud scream and gasp.

Every time her muscles clenched around his cock he was about to loose control, but tonight he wanted this to go on. The need to be and stay inside of her as long as possible was of another kind than on other nights and mornings and days. He would kill again and again for her happiness and her safety and he deserved his price for that. She was that price. The one thing money couldn’t buy. The one thing he might loose if he’d not be cautious.

It drove him wild!

He pulled out of her and flipped them over so she was on top. Loosing no time at all, she impaled herself on his cock. Her name became a series of gasps and moans until he controlled his own voice once more, wanting and needing to her the wet and truly delicious smacks along with her sighs and moans as she rode him hard.

Tonight wasn’t about being gentle. Tonight it was about the quintessence of their lust and his need to possess all her reactions and desires.

Soon his hands grabbed her hips as he drove up into her, meeting her own thrusts.

“Come on baby, ride me…” he hissed when one of his particularly hard thrusts nearly made her loose her balance. A sudden rush of adrenaline nearly caused his orgasm when she leaned forward and gripped the hair of his scalp when she began to undulate her hips fast and hard. Now it was his turn to pant and moan. She had him. He was hers. And starting today, she’d be the only one ever to be able to claim any kind of hold on him.

“I-I-I’m… mmmh… T-Tho…”

His eyes grew large when he heard her moans that sounded distantly like sobs.

“So good… S-So large…” she continued, completely lost in the frantic race for her orgasm.

“You like it when I fuck you hard you little minx?” he uttered, voice unstable and dark with the urge to spill his seed inside of her swollen, drenched and tightening cunt.

“Yeah…” it was more a gasp than a word and he felt his muscles tighten pleasantly. Close. He was close. He needed to come or he’d go insane. It was okay. She’d have him hard again in no time. Once more he changed their position, rolling her over, earning another moan from her. His long, experienced fingers found her clit and she screamed his name while his thrusts became deep, hard and fast. Her legs encircled his hips allowing him to plunge deeper inside of her.

“C-Come…” he gasped, desire taking away his ability to sound commanding. A few thrusts later she came with a long, throaty moan, her muscles clenching him hard and he allowed himself to finally let himself loose, pumping his seed inside of her while growling, groaning and actually yelling her name.

Thomas collapsed onto her, spent and sated for the moment. Her limbs were shaking, but she still held onto him, her ankles crossed on his lower back while her hands caressed him. Gentle and sweet kissed peppered onto his neck and his shoulder, a busy tongue lapping at his sweaty skin.

Realizing how heavy he was, the tall man attempted to roll off of her, but her grip only tightened.

“Stay!” she said in a voice as gentle as her kisses.

Inhaling that scent of hers mixed with the smell of sex, he buried his head in her hair, his arms encircling her body in an iron grip before he lifted his head to look at her in the dark.

“I love you.” The amount of honesty in his voice would have shocked him if this were any other person beneath him. With her though, he had always known that he would forever be devoted to her and tonight he had decided that she would not share his devotion with anyone, anymore. From now on he had to make sure his name would be uttered in fear. Only she would be allowed to say it lovingly.

“I love you too.” She answered and her lovely voice sounded tired. Thomas smiled and kissed her face.

“Go back to sleep, love. We will continue this in the morning.” He promised and pecked her on the lips. The delicate notion of an exhausted giggle bathed his senses into the warmth of their intimacy.

“Sweet dreams are made of this…” she sing-songed and he chuckled and kissed her deeply, savouring everything that was her. “Good night, Thomas.” She said and snuggled her head into the hollow of his neck.

“Sweet dreams…” The name that now fell from his thin lips sounded like the most precious thing in the world. A one-word poem he was more fond of than of all the combined sonnets and love letters in the whole world.

 

 

When she had fallen asleep, he pressed a soft kiss on her forehead and freed himself from the light grip of her arms. Thomas made sure that she was well tugged in before he rose from the bed and changed the clock back to its correct time.

Suddenly he felt too alive to go to sleep. Slipping on a black robe, he walked into the living- room and poured himself a drink and sat on the comfortable couch, his eyes on the city. There was no more fatigue left inside of his body, his very being shaken awake and alive by his resolution. He’d been taught enough. It was time to become unaffiliated.

Ben would get that.

Marcus… probably not so much.

He would have to plan his next move, not willing to get on either men’s bad side. Associates like them were always so much more adjuvant when they still held some sort of liking for you. And he had to make sure that she would be safe from the other two most dangerous men in England.

The scotch warmed his tongue before it invaded his taste buds with its rich weight.

Right now he was at a point of his life when it was time to make the final leap. He had money. He had the woman he loved at his side. He had power. But now, now he wanted that final thing that would make it all his.

Thomas yearned for the moment his face would send the right people changing the side of the road when they saw him. He wanted them to know it was him who would be able to cause trouble. Not his older partners. As long as he remained too close to them, he would always appear as the protégé. The boy who still had much to learn. And that would not work out.

Not when he had the resources and the abilities to assure his progress and her safety by simply stating his name or showing his face.

His blue eyes channelled their sharp gaze at the world outside and an almost cruel grin appeared on his face.

“It’ll all be mine…”


End file.
